Don't Make Me Leave
by everlark4ever75
Summary: Katniss has been diagnosed with an incurable sickness. Peeta comes back from the Capitol when she is five weeks into it. Peeta stays with her so she can help overcome it. When they realise she cannot be saved, Peeta makes it his mission to give her the best life she can in her final moments. Can Peeta, Haymitch, Effie and Lily get Katniss better? Will Katniss die happy? Read to see
1. Prologue- Slipping Away

**Don't Let Me Leave**

 **By everlark4ever75**

* * *

 **Prologue: Slipping Away**

Ten weeks since Peeta's return from the Capitol. Ten weeks of pain, suffering and putting him through hell. Sixteen weeks of my sickness. Sixteen weeks of coughing, vomiting, blood, bruises, weakness, sleep deprivation, intense pain, among many other things. Now it's finally coming to an end.

For the first time in my life, I don't want to go. Except, it seems that the world my path written. Other stages in my life I've wanted to end my life to save those who I love. Now, I've lost most of the people who I was willing to die saving. Now, I want to be living. In my first six weeks, I was ready for it to take me, the sickness to consume me and make me a victim. When it didn't take me, I was willing to take it myself. I was ready to end my own life because it was killing me so much. But, that same day I was going to end it, Peeta walked into my front door. And he hasn't walked out of my door nor left my side ever since. The guilty which has overcome me is incredibly intense. I wish he didn't come through my door. I wish I killed myself before. Because now, everyone knows, everyone's sad because of my new state of life… well almost death...

Now, I leave behind people I love and want to stay with forever. Now, I see the people who I love and wish I didn't have to leave so soon. Now, I have to say goodbye to those people I never wanted to say goodbye too, but was willing to before. Now, I lay in bed and cry because I can feel the end drawing closer and I don't want to hurt anyone. But, this sickness has done nothing but hurt people as well as myself. They tried to find a cure, but there was none. Peeta swore to me that he'd find that cure, but he couldn't magically pull it from the air. Haymitch swore to me also, profanities and then tried just like Peeta. Effie was the same, working over in the Capitol to try and get my cure from anyone. My Mum in 4 also tried, but she could only send me what could help prevent it. Promising to make sure someone could find a cure as soon as possible. But, none of them were lucky. And neither am I. I thanked them, but the just felt like they failed me. I owe them my life, the little of it which I have left.

I didn't deserve these last ten weeks. After wanting to end my life, it took days and weeks for Peeta to finally make me feel like I deserved as long as I got. After all my pain which I was in and made other people feel, I didn't want to continue it… but Peeta made my final days, weeks, months, hours, minutes count. He made me believe that my life actually mattered, that people cared. He made me care, he made me feel loved and he made me love. He made me be thankful for the last few months I was given from the friends and people who sacrificed themselves for my long life. Except, my long life which was promised me has come to an end.

From all the horrible things which have happened to me in my life, almost costing my life, I go like this. From a sickness which just appeared and is going to claim my life. I've lived through all these traumas, gunshots, strangulation, fireballs, electrocution, burning alive… And I'm taken from this world because of sickness. This is not how I planned to live out my life. And now, here it is happening.

I thank Peeta every moment that I get, I thank Haymitch whenever I see him, Effie whenever she calls for updates, which is almost every day. If two days go past and she hasn't called, she is crying on the phone and wishing that I was still here. When she hears I am, she cries even more, apologising and wishing she was there with us. I wish she was here with us too, but now she is too late. Mum calls every few days, she is busy in 4. I know she wants to be here just like Effie, but she can't physically come from the mental battle about being here without my father and Prim. I wish she was here. But, she's helped to the best of her abilities with the medical side of things. I feel myself slipping and wanting her and Effie here with me. Today, I can feel it. I can feel the end coming. The pain is becoming unbearable. I couldn't sleep. Peeta can feel it beside me. But, he refuses to believe that my end is here. But, it is. And I'm going to have to say goodbye…

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"You have to find something! Anything to give us more time! I don't know how much longer she has!" A small amount of silence before, "I don't care! Try harder!" I hear the slam of the receiver onto the dock. I hear another slam and something fall over. Then a loud grunt.

Peeta, bless his heart, still trying even to the last day.

This burst of anger is from his lack of sleep, his pain, his realisation, his love for me. From his yelling which awoken me from a small bout of sleep, I can hear the pain from his cries of help. I've given up on the hope which is help for me. But, Peeta refuses to give up until his last breath. Not even my last breath, his.

I hear the almost silent sobbing from him downstairs. I know this is killing him slowly. He hasn't stopped worrying since he first saw me after coming back here in 12. I don't see him crying. I never have. He's always done it behind my back, but I always know when he has. His eyes go red and puffy, he tries to cover it up from slashing water on his face. His eyes grow a darker blue than usual. But, I still know. I don't know if he knows I know, but I just do. My whole body is going to shut down from what I'm about to do, but I have too. I feel the ache inside my muscles and bones as I sit up slowly, pushing the heavy blankets from my legs. My head is about to explode, the hammering of it against my skull is intensely distracting. It doesn't distract me from my thought and want, my new destination. I've always been too stubborn for my own good. My shaky and weak hands press hard against the mattress as I try to stand. I haven't tried to stand by myself in over two weeks. Peeta's been helping me walk, but recently he's just been carrying me wherever I need and want to go.

When I stand, my legs are shaky and can barely hold up my body. My body feels like it's made from heavy, hot lead. I feel like my body weighs a tonne, but it's the lightest it's ever been. I stand, just trying to see if I can actually make it to my destination, but I cannot stop my thoughts. I let out a shaky breath, trying to blink away the stars and black spots, it works a little and then I take a step. I feel my whole body quake at the movement, but I can't stop myself from moving my other foot in front of me. Slowly but surely, I make my way to the wall and I let myself rest against it for a second, catching my breath. I have to be silent, not even quiet because then he'll hear me and come back up. So, silently I walk out the door, slowly. I make it down the wall in a few minutes. Then I come to the top of the stairs, I feel slightly out of my league and didn't think enough about them. But, there's railing so I don't worry too much. Peeta will be the one worrying too much. I hear his sobs louder from here, it pushes me on. I grab the railing of the stairs with both hands and I take a step down. I think it's going to be hard, but when I take two steps down, I'm scaling them quicker than walking straight, which makes zero sense. Soon, I'm at the bottom of them and on the first floor.

This is the furthest I've walked without help in almost four weeks. I feel accomplished standing at the bottom of the stairs. I grab hold of the wall beside me and peer into the living room of my house. I see the phone dock knocked off on the ground, a pillow around near where it's fallen on the ground. I look around the corner of the wall to see Peeta hunched over on the couch, his hands covering his face and his cries obvious from here. They're loud and choppy, being too hard to overcome and too intense to silence anymore. Now, I move. Slowly and against the wall. It's taken way too much of my energy walking this far and it's taking its toll. But, I cannot stop moving. I mean, I could easily, but my destination is only a few more steps away.

Peeta's clearly too consumed by his tears and fears that he can't even hear me when I'm hovering above him. When I lower myself slowly into the seat beside me, he must feel the couch dip and his head shoots up instantly, scared and worried about the new presence beside him.

"Katniss?! What are you—?! How did—? You're going to hurt yourself! Why—?! Katniss!" He babbles, unbelieving his eyes which are gazing down at me as he stands from the couch.

I take his body in. His defined and bulky shoulders, his small waist, muscly arms with the lightest dusting of blonde hair you can't even notice if you aren't looking for them. His large hands which can kill a man, choke a girl, knead a huge batch of dough for cinnamon bread, paint the softest and most calming picture of the oceans in 4, caress my cheeks until I fall asleep, knot themselves into a braid in my hair, ghostly move over my body. His defined jawline, rosy cheeks, red and blotchy eyes from his tears, deep blue eyes which are always looking over at me, long blonde eyelashes which somehow don't tangle together, curly blonde locks which are long and almost covering his sapphire eyes.

When his strong arms move to wrap around my body and pick me up, I shake my head slowly to prevent an intense headache.

"Katniss—" He starts.

"No." I interrupt.

My hands wrap around his arms and I pull him to the couch. He sits down and I let my eyes lock with his now tearless eyes. His arm goes around my back and holds me up from falling over.

"Why are you down here?" He asks calmly.

I bring my hands up to his cheeks, letting my fingertips knot into his curls.

"To hold you."

He looks at me confused and then I finish.

"To let you grieve."

He starts stumbling over his words again, but I don't listen to them. I shake my head and place my fingertips over his lips, shushing him instantly. His eyes are looking worriedly at me and I can see the pain and hurt inside them. I can almost see the tears brewing again.

"To let you cry."

His nostrils inwardly flare, his eyebrows narrowing and the tears instantly start. Huge water droplets fall onto his cheeks and he leans over, pressing his head against my shoulder. I slowly lower myself onto the couch and let him lie in my arms. I hold his head against my chest and close my eyes, feeling my own tears building up. When I blink, they trail down the side of my face and into my hairline. Peeta's whole body trembles as he cries loudly, I can feel his lips quivering against my small breast. I don't know long he cries for, but it's a long time. I can't let myself full on cry as I comfort him, because this is about him. I don't bother trying to stop his tears, he deserves to let them fall onto my nightshirt. I feel my chest start to burn and I let my eyes close tightly, trying to let the pain ride out. I can't ask him for help now. I let out a shaky breath and then I run my hand down his back. I bring it back up to his hair and I massage his locks between my fingers.

Soon, he starts to calm down and his sobs stop, only hiccups coming from his lips and shaky breaths. My chest now feels like it's on fire and I feel my stomach churning. I feel my heart start to race and I think Peeta feels it. He jumps up from my chest and looks up at me. I try to smile, but it only lasts a second before my body starts trembling and I shut my eyes tight. I let out a pained sigh, biting my lip as I feel the blood and bile rising through my throat. I let out a little whimper and then Peeta moves quickly. He bats away any remaining tears from his face and he gets up from the couch. I groan when he picks me up, rushing me back upstairs.

"You're going to be fine. I'm right here." Peeta assures me, running into my bedroom and into the bathroom connected to it.

"I'm not…" I whimper, tears stinging my eyes as I feel it rising more.

"Don't say that." He demands, helping me onto the ground in front of the toilet.

I feel exhausted as I lay my arm around the toilet, waiting for the blood vomit to be over and done with. I rest my head against my outstretched arm, Peeta pushing the loose baby hairs from my fore head. His other hand rubs big circles around in my back which is comforting, but helping bring up the blood. It splutters from my mouth, spraying some of the wall before I turn my head all the way into the bowl. It burns like acid, tastes metallic and makes my whole body go limp.

After five minutes of constant vomiting, it stops and I feel woozy and dirty. Peeta kisses my hair and leaves my side for a moment. He passes me the Ecli liquid in a small cup. I shake my head, starting to cry as I think about having that again.

"No no." I whimper, tears streaking my cheeks.

"Come on, Katniss. I know it hurts. But, you know it helps. Please? Do it for me?" He begs.

He's right. He always is. But, I do not want to have to have that again. For a few seconds I close my eyes and somewhat enjoy the time without pain and blood ripping into my throat again. Then I open up my fingers and Peeta slips the cup into my weak fingers. I bring it to my lips and I cringe thinking about the pain I'm about to be in. I feel Peeta's hand in my hair and his lips pressing a kiss to my brow. He's here, he's not going to let me feel complete pain. Then I tip the cup up and swallow it without another thought, throwing the cup aside so I can grip something to help me writhe through the pain.

As soon as I start crying out, Peeta's hand is in my loosely hanging one. As the Elic quadruples my blood count within my body, ripping into my crooks and crannies, I hold Peeta's hand like my whole life is depending on it. I feel the wet of my cheeks from my leaking eyes, my hot body needing more coolness, I hear Peeta's soothing words, but I don't pay attention to his words, just his voice. Peeta must sense my burning body when I feel him place a soaking wet towel over my fore head, neck and cheeks. When my raw throat cannot take anymore screams, I groan and whimper. It goes on for two minutes before it stops and I just slowly rock. Peeta pulls the now hot towel from my face and grabs hold of my hair, knowing my last lot of vomiting is coming. I lean over when I feel my stomach churn, instantly spewing up the bad stuff from inside. Peeta tells me when I finally puke up the last bit, "That's it, baby. Good job." as he rubs my back.

I push myself into his body and try to distance myself from the blood and toxin filled toilet. Peeta leans over, closing the lid and flushing it all away before he wraps his arms around me, kissing my brow again.

"All done." He says softly and with relief.

I feel my whole body start to settle and my skin starting to burn up. I grab a tight hold on Peeta's arm and starting to sob.

"Hot…" I breathe.

He knows what I mean from just a single word. It's not just from something obvious as 'Hot', but he just knows what I need. He hasn't just become the person to care for me, he is my carer.

"Okay. Just let go of me for a second and I'll get the water running. Okay?" He whispers into my ear, trying to pull his arm and body away from me.

As he starts to pull away, I whimper, not wanting him to disappear from my body. He kisses my head and I let some more tears fall.

"Katniss, I'll be a few seconds. I promise. Just let go of me for the minute okay?" He assures me.

Without wanting too, I let go of his arm and he slides out from behind me. I hear the water start, fumbling of clothes and then he's back at my side. He lifts me up from the ground and plants his legs around mine so I won't fall. He lifts up my shirt, which is actually his and throws it across into the hamper. Since everything started getting extremely painful, time consuming and hard for me, we made things easier. I wear his shirts so it covers over my whole body. I don't wear panties so it's not a hassle. My hair is always braided back. Piles of clean clothes and towels always lay next to the shower. Having the shower and bath installed with one of the instant dryers which we had in our showers in the Capitol. Everything is close so that I don't have to be too far away from Peeta. He's the only thing holding me back on this earth. The only reason I'm still breathing is him.

He's already takes off his clothes so we can get into the shower together. I keep my eyes closed as he starts walking me backwards into the shower. When I feel the cool water hit my skin, I sigh. I feel Peeta stiffen behind me as he is touched by the water. He goes through hell just to make sure that I'm feeling the best that I can feel. He has to listen and comfort me through my blood vomits, my normal vomits, my crying pain fits from the Elic liquid. He has to carry my useless body around everywhere. He has to have cold and scorching showers with me to get my temperature back to normal. He has to make sure everything I do eat, when I do eat, is prepared with no bad chemicals or things which will make me vomit. He's too good to me to do all of these things.

He lowers us onto the floor in the shower and lets me sit directly under the flowing water. I let the water consume me and cool me. I hear Peeta whispering to me, but again I only listen to his voice. I know it's only soothing things so it's not a need to listen to give him an answer. His hands undo my braid and he lets his hands run through my hair to loosen it from the braid he did earlier. When it's undone, he continues to run his fingers through my hair. It soothes me enough, the same with his voice. I have my head bowed, my body leaning into Peeta's and my knees brought the closest to my chest which I can. I watch the water droplets fall from my loose hair into the drain to disappear forever. When I feel my body starting to cool, I bring a hand back and I find Peeta's knee and I squeeze it. He knows what I mean and he gets up from behind me, rubbing my arm and kissing my head before using the wall to hold himself up. He gets out and then dries and dresses himself.

Peeta got a special new prosthesis fitted so he could shower with me. He asked for it to be waterproof, easy to remove and attach, and soft so it doesn't wear his stub out too much. He sleeps with it off and any other chance he isn't doing anything, but it's always an arms width away from him.

Soon, Peeta reaches into the shower, turning it off. He's got a soft cotton white shirt on and black track pants. He leans over and picks me up as if I weigh nothing, which I do, and then sits me in the bathtub. In the beginning, he used to be uncomfortable with my nudity and I was too, now it's normal. Every day he is showering with me, dressing me, washing my body, he's caring for me at all times. So, he got over the nudity quickly and so did I, except I just didn't care about anything then. He presses a button and the dryer begins, making me dry as a sunflower in the sun within a few seconds. He turns it off as soon as I'm dry, knowing the sound hurts my ears and then pulls me back out. He throws over one of his shirts over my head and then helps my arms through the holes.

He then makes sure I've got hold of the bar next to the shower and gets the special paste. He passes me the small paddle stick with the white and green paste on it. I pop it into my mouth and swirl it around my tongue and teeth. The minty freshness overtakes the metallic blood taste and the horrible Elic liquid taste from my mouth. The special paste, which I call it instead of its hard name I can't even begin to pronounce, cleans, refreshes and keeps my teeth clean, healthy and does everything toothpaste does, just without brushing. It saves my energy and Peeta from trying to get into all the crevices inside my mouth with a brush. Peeta holds out a cup of water and I look up into his, thanking him without words and sipping some of it, swishing it around with the special paste. I turn around into the bath and spit it out before rinsing my mouth and letting it slosh back out. Then I reach over, turning the bath tap on slightly and letting it wash away. I turn it off and then turn back to Peeta. He takes the cup and stick, placing it against the sink and picking me back up.

I wrap my arms around his neck and I bury my head into his shoulder. He walks slowly into the bedroom and then places me onto the bed. Unwillingly, I let go of his neck and bury myself into the pillows. He moves over and turns on the fan before pulling up the single sheet from underneath the heavy quilt. I catch Peeta's hand when he turns around to get up. He looks back down to me with wondering and curious eyes.

"Thank you." I whisper, holding a tight grip on his hand.

He smiles at me and presses a kiss to my cheek.

"Anytime."

As he starts to run his fingers through my hair again with his other hand, I whisper,

"Missed."

His eyes go from my hair to my eyes and they narrow, confused.

"What?" He murmurs softly, brushing my hair with his fingers still.

"You missed." I say again, pressing my lips together after licking them.

I bring my spare hand up to his head, brushing it through his hair before resting it against the back of his head. I urge him forward slowly, letting out a breathy sigh and letting my eyes fall shut. Soon, I feel his breath against my skin and I softly gasp. Then I feel his lips on mine and my whole body goes on fire, except not in the way it did a few minutes before. His lips are soft against my own and they move slowly against my own. When he pulls back, I lick my lips, tasting him on my tongue. I let my eyes flutter open that little bit to see his eyes heavy with desire as he looks down into my Seam eyes.

"Katniss…" He mutters as soft as Buttercup purrs.

His breathy tone makes me sigh softly.

"I love you."

He's said it so many times to me, when he thinks I'm asleep, in his sleep, when we're both awake and aware. But, with his soft tone and his lips so close to my own, it feels like he's saying it for the first time again. I smile, biting my lip and opening my eyes to look into his own.

"I love you." I say just as softly.

I tighten my grip in his locks as I watch his lips fall open slightly. I've said it to him just like when he does. When I think he's asleep, when he is asleep, when I'm asleep, when were both awake and aware. But every time I say it to him, he still acts like a little boy and smiles like a crazed in love teenage boy. He acts like he's hearing it for the first time too. And it's always adorable. He leans back down and presses another small kiss to my lips.

I feel the pain in my chest begin again and I have to silence my pain. I feel my legs starting to go fuzzy, my arms losing all weakness so they are just limp, but I keep my hands in their positions. My hand interlocked with Peeta, my fingers knotted in his hair. I take a deep breath and feel my chest burning. Peeta's looking down at me like I'm the most beautiful person in the world. His eyes are filled with love and his hand is still running through my locks. I close my eyes and take another deep breath before I say what I've been rehearsing for weeks. My throat is feeling raw from my screaming all night, this morning and just before, but I have to say it. I open my eyes and look deep into his so he knows how serious I am. I have a small smile playing on my lips and he replicates it.

"I love you with all my damaged heart." I begin.

I pause and Peeta thinks it's all I have to say, starting to say the same thing back, but I stop him.

"Please. Let me finish."

He nods and smiles back at me, waiting for my words.

"I'll make it out of this sickness and we'll finally be able to love each other like normal people. We'll fight and hate each other. But, then we'll realise how silly we are being and we'll love each other instantly. We'll make love and you'll make sure I feel as beautiful and loved as any other woman in the world."

His hand stops moving when he realises what I'm doing. His eyes go wide and his eyes become glossy. But, I don't stop.

"You'll try to teach me to bake. And I'll promise to try not to burn our house down. Then we'll spend afternoon on the porch, you painting me more beautifully than I really am. You'll ask me to marry you after a while. I'll get scared about having you ripped away from me. And I'll run away. For a few hours, I break your heart. Then I realise how stupid I am, how much I'm overreacting and I'll come crying back and I'll say yes. We'll make passionate love and will act like teenagers in love. Effie will plan the wedding and make sure that it's as perfect as we want it, after we tell her no to a hundred things."

He chuckles and his hand movements begin again in my hair.

"Haymitch will walk me down the aisle. I'll wear a long white dress and you'll wear a black and white suit. I'll have a bouquet of primroses…" I pause, feeling a single tear drop from my eye.

"And you'll have one pinned to your jacket. We'll say I do and cry at each other's vows, giving each other wedding bands. Then we'll walk down the aisle together as husband and wife, ready to continue our life together. We'll make love like bunnies and Haymitch will make fun of us." Another small chuckle.

"Then after a year or so, you'll ask me for a family, a baby. I'll say no because of the same reasons I said no to your proposal. I'll get scared, but this one will last for longer. Then I ask you to ask me every few months. And you do, each few months on the same date as the first time. After a year or so of that, I'll finally agree. You'll cry, spin me around and then kiss me like you haven't before. Because, you've always wanted to be a father and the kind that your father was to you."

"We'll make love constantly, then a few months later I'll find out I'm pregnant. I cry and you find me. I'll tell you and you'll cry again and tell me how amazing it's going to be. You'll make sure I'm feeling as perfect as possible throughout the whole nine months. You'll care for me just like you do for me now, but I'll be semi-mobile." His face falls and his left eye springs a tear onto my chest.

"I'll get fat, eat crazy things, freak out when I feel the baby move, but you'll be there. You'll say I'm beautiful, you'll make me as much crazy food as I want, you'll touch my stomach, talk to it and make sure that I love each movement they make. Then I'll scream and break your hand when I bring life to our baby. You'll cry when I hold the baby for the first time, I'll be crying too. You'll be a mess when I pass the baby to you. But, you'll be the happiest man in the world and finally a father."

I'm crying now. But, I'm still not done. I keep going even though I'm in immense pain and my body is fading away.

"We'll be exhausted from him or her waking us up constantly. But, it'll be worth it. We'll watch them do their firsts. Step, word, sentence, walk, run, and even ruin the kitchen or art room from them wanting to be like their Daddy. Then we'll love it so much that we'll have another baby. And another. And another if that's what I wanted."

I clear my throat, clutching onto his hand like my life depends on it… which it does. These are going to be my last words. I'm interrupted by the phone ringing. But, I shake my head at Peeta and start talking over the ringing.

"We'll watch them grow up into beautiful people. We'll love each other for as long as we possibly can and we'll die together from old age. It won't just be one of us, because we can't do that. We live together, fight together, love together, so we'll die together. Because, the thought of living a world without you…" I sob. I can't help it. My end is coming and I'm just wanting more time. The phone stopped ringing and it's started again. But, I keep talking. He has to hear this. He has to hear what I wanted.

"A world without you isn't a world at all. And I'll kill myself just to be with you. Then we'll live together for the rest of eternity because our love is so powerful that it'll last longer than a lifetime."

Peeta is sobbing like crazy and he leans down, pressing a kiss to my lips. He knows I'm finished. Then I gasp painfully, breaking our lips apart. I whimper and writhe in pain, squeezing Peeta's hand like nothing else. His hand has come to cup my cheek and his tears dropping onto my cheeks. The phone stops ringing again, but doesn't start again. Peeta presses another kiss to my lips and sobs against my face with me. He knows what's happening.

"I needed to say that. I knew it was coming. I've been thinking it all day. You had to know…" I'm cut off by another painful gasp from my lips.

"You had to know that I wanted the same thing you did. I've been repeating it for five weeks. Because, that's what I wanted my last words to be."

He shakes his head against my own and starts muttering no.

"A world without you isn't a world at all. It really isn't. You're all I care about and love in this world now. You and Haymitch and Effie. Our little team. But, you… you're it for me."

"Katniss, no. Stay with me. Come on, you can do it." He whispers.

"I love you."

My chest is compressed. I can't breathe. Something has overcome my body. I can't feel anything. I'm slipping away. This is it. My last moments. With the person I love. This is how I always wanted to go out. Whenever it was. In the Games. In the Capitol. In my home. I wanted to go with the person I loved staying with me, always.

"Stay with me, Katniss! Please god! Stay! Stay with me!" He cries, his voice loud but so far away.

"Always." I whisper.

Light comes into view, but he's all I can see. In the very far distance I can hear more yelling. Not Peeta's. Haymitch's.

"PEETA! PEETA! THEY FOUND IT! THEY FOUND IT!"

"Found what?"

And the last thing I hear before I'm pulled away,

"THEY FOUND A CURE!"

 _A cure._

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 **I had this idea today when I was supposed to be reading a novel for class before going back after holidays tomorrow, but fanfiction always wins! This is going to be the whole journey about how Katniss got into this position, how Peeta cared for her, how they tried to help her out. It's not supposed to be some big medical breakthrough type story. I have next to nothing knowledge with medical stuff, so this is all made up. It's for the story! So, i would appreciate no hate for that because i've said it's fake. It's my idea, my story, so it's my illness.**

 **I hope people enjoyed this. More will come soon. I can't get enough of this story. The first chapter will be back a week before Peeta comes back: Week 5 of her Sickness. I hope this story will be the kind loving and painful love story which i hope it to be. People who have read my stuff before know I always tend to do this hard love, pain and hurt stuff. This is what i love. This is the stuff which makes and builds relationships into things you can't even imagine. So, this is my favourite fanfiction. Lemme know if you like it!**

 **Reviews are like kisses from Peeta, you just can't get enough of them!**


	2. Chapter 1- Alone

**Chapter 1: Alone**

* * *

The rebellion ended ten weeks ago. My final kill was nine weeks ago. My trial ended six weeks ago. I came back here five and a half weeks ago. I've been feeling horrible for five weeks straight. Four weeks ago, Greasy Sae starting coming to feed me because Haymitch was too lazy to do it himself and I was too depressed and exhausted to do it _myself_. Three weeks ago, my phone rang each day, but I didn't pick it up. I assumed it was Gale or my mother or Dr Aurelius. I couldn't and didn't want to sit through their conversations. The pain intensified and it was becoming unbearable, but I still sat through it. The burning in my chest, the constant vomiting, the coughing like nothing else, my skin being covered in bruises from my body hitting objects… not even hard. Two weeks and the phone continued to ring, Haymitch continued to ignore my existence, Greasy fed me and my pain from my weird flu thing continued to deepen. It was a sickness, how bad could I get? I doubt I'd die! If the world wanted me dead, they would have done it by now… But, I did want to die. The pain continued and I did nothing about it. From this pain, I thought maybe it would be easier to just kill myself, stop my suffering. It would also save the suffering from people like Haymitch who would eventually realise that it's worse than it looks. But, this week, I was too chicken to find a knife or pills…

One week ago, Haymitch finally came around, he told me to pick up the _damn_ phone, that I looked like shit and that Peeta should be coming home soon. It made me somewhat happy, but my whole body was down. My pain was excruciating and I still did nothing about it. I vomited up blood. I thought it was just from my rubbed raw throat, but it striked me as concerning, I still did nothing. My period stopped too. But, from all the irregularity I've have with it since I got it when I was thirteen, it didn't seem to phase me that it didn't come. I didn't answer the phone, I didn't make an effort to actually get checked out for this pain and sickness which had overcome my body. It'd clear up eventually. But, all my instincts knew better, I just didn't follow through with them. I visualised where the knife was… where the pills were kept… But, still didn't make a move. But, even Peeta coming but didn't change my thoughts on the subject. I still thought of it hard, just never moved from the couch or the bathroom floor.

* * *

"I thought it was just the flu." I tell Greasy when she comes and touches my burning fore head, a week later from Haymitch saying Peeta's coming back soon.

"Even a really bad flu doesn't last this long darlin'." She says huskily.

I narrow my eyes and cough, feeling my head almost explode from the pressure of coughing. I groan and lean back into the couch wishing I could just disappeared into its feathered depths.

"Darlin', I think you should get your mother too—"

"Are you seriously suggesting that?" I interrupt angrily, voice scratchy and raw.

I haven't had a good night sleep since the before Quell…

"Darlin', she's your only option. She'd come here—"

"She isn't coming back here, ever! She's made that quiet bloody clear from what Haymitch told me yesterday.

Yesterday, Haymitch came around again and said he got a phone call from my mother. She said that she would come back to 12, but the ghosts here are too much for her. She can't bare coming back to the place where there was once her whole family, with now only two remaining. I told Haymitch to tell her if she called him again to 'Get a fucking grip!'. I'm here because I'm banished and almost everyone who lived in 12 is dead because of me. So, she is worried about two ghosts. I have hundreds, thousand even. I deserve to hate her that little bit for her selfishness.

Before I can start yelling about my mother, my mind is interrupted by my insides. I jump up from the couch, pushing Greasy out of my way as I run to the downstairs bathroom. I get inside and I vomit straight into the bowl. It burns like acid, tastes like bile and smells revolting. Greasy follows me in and then I feel her take a seat on the bathtub next to me, pulling my hair from my face. When I've emptied everything out, I rest my head against my arm and groan. My head throbs and I want to sleep. But sleeping is no safe place, all I do is see my nightmares from real life again. I can't do that.

"Darlin' how long has this been happening?" She asks after a few minutes.

"I don't know… Four weeks… Five weeks." I groan into the toilet bowl.

She looks at me and shakes her head. Before I can hear her say anything else, my head turns again when I feel the bile and the taste of blood. When it stops, I look to see the blood mixing with the water. The ruby red liquid which I've seen too much of in my life, not just animal blood either. This is the third time this week and it's only Tuesday.

"Katniss." Greasy breathes behind me.

I groan and pull myself up from the toilet, flushing it and turning to the sink. When I'm standing, I'm shaky and my chest hurts and my breathing is shallow and fast. I turn on the tap and lean over the sink. I splash my face and then gargle some water before spitting it out and walking out from the room, leaning my shoulder against the wall. I hear the light switch flick off and I feel Greasy's present beside me.

I trip over my feet, but before I can fall onto the ground, Greasy grabs me and holds me to her side. It's now that the tears start to come into my eyes and I sob. She holds me close, slowly helping me back towards the couch. I feel horrible. My whole body aches, my head is always pounding, my nightmares are worse than ever, I'm always feeling like I'm about to throw up, my chest stings and throbs whenever I breathe too slow or shallow, my heart pounds extremely hard within its cavity, I'm a mess and I want to die! Greasy mutters to me, but I don't pay any attention to it. Just having someone here makes me feel just that little bit less alone. Even though I've never been so alone in the world…

"Katniss?" She whispers in her husky old voice, helping me down onto the couch again.

"What?" I whine through my spluttering sobs.

"I need you to eat something." She tells me.

I shake my head.

Greasy persists.

"Please? Just some soup. I ask nothing more of you."

I feel the tears dropping from my eyes and into the pillow which I now lay against. I cough, a throaty one which kills my chest and begins the burning sensations which feel worse than fire. My head nods to Greasy and I continue to cough up my metaphoric lung. She runs a rugged hand over my hair before I hear her steps disappear.

I don't know how long it takes for my coughing to stop, but it does and I just lay silently in the cushion. I think I doze off, because I am soon groggily looking up at Greasy as she sits on a stool next to me. She holds a brown bowl in her hands with a spoon, steam flying from the bowl.

"Can you do it? Or would you like me to do it?" She asks softly.

I know Greasy has kids, or had kids, because she has a granddaughter who comes around sometimes with her sometimes. I think her name is Rhila. She's off in her own world when I do see her, kind of like Annie, but she is different from her own innocence and having no family aside from Greasy Sae. She was a mother before she was always trading her stew at the Hob. So, here I can see her motherly instincts kicking in just from her soft voice.

I nod my head, wanting to cry again from how pathetic and like a child I am acting. She nods her head and then scoots closer to me.

It takes about twenty minutes for her to convince half the bowl into me, but I do it. Only for her, because I know it'll make her feel better. She runs her hand over my hair as I lie back into the couch and I slowly drift away into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

When I do come to, it's too loud voices. I keep my eyes closed, but I listen to the voices and what they are saying.

"I've known her for years, years I tells ya! And she's never been like this!"

Greasy.

"She's just sick. She'll shake it off."

Haymitch.

"Stupid man, she will not! I had to spoon feed her! I haven't done that since I was looking after Rhila as a baby! She can't even move properly!" She's angry, concerned.

"A bad flu." Haymitch states, his words slurred indicating his intoxication.

I hear a slap and I open my eyes for a few seconds. I see Greasy's hand hovering to the side of his face as it's turned towards the kitchen wall. I shut my eyes when I feel a slight pain in the side of my head.

"Stupid stupid man! Wake up! She needs medical attention!"

"Well sorry _old lady_! But there isn't any kind of medical anything here!" Haymitch exclaims.

"Shut up! Don't be so loud or you'll wake her up!" She sneers softly.

"I don't care what happens to you. I don't care what happens to me. You need to get her healthy. Find a way for someone to look after her, someone to look at her and see how she is. I can't be here all the time. I have Rhila to think about because she lost everyone aside from me. But, I want to be here. I can't and you need to step up. I'm taking your alcohol and you are getting her better! You hear me?!" Greasy demands.

Haymitch groans and then says,

"We've done all we need to do. Now, it's time for healing. And mine is with a bottle."

I hear another slap and I know it's Greasy from her roaring voice next.

"She isn't healing! She's sicker than anything I've ever seen! She's spewing up blood, stupid man! Blood! That's not right. You're her mentor! Her family! Act like it! You love her and you know it. You are just too bloody drunk to realise that now. No more alcohol for you until she is better! You hear me?!"

Then a door slams and I hear rushed footsteps before the door slams again and inside it's quiet.

Outside is another story. I still hear their yelling, but I can't bring myself to pay attention. Then I hear Haymitch yell back,

"The boy is coming back in a few days! Will be here before Friday. He can look after her!"

I hear Greasy start yelling back, but my thoughts are elsewhere.

 _Peeta_.

Friday.

I can't be here by then.

I can't be here to see him.

He can't see me like this.

I fall asleep thinking about the blade piercing my skin and letting me bleed out, and the pills knocking me out for good.

* * *

The next morning after a long battle with nightmares and after Greasy has force fed me soup again, I journey towards the kitchen. I have my hand tightly gripping the counter as I rummage through the drawers for the knife. Tonight, I plan to stop my suffering. I just need to see it in here so I know it's here for when I get it later. I've made peace with my soon death. This sickness isn't doing anything but hurt me and apparently Greasy, so I just need to stop my suffering. I see it and pick it up for a second before I put it back where it was. Then I make my way back to the couch. I had my morning blood vomit and now I can just lay and await for the sun to go down. Greasy can find me tomorrow morning. Then it'll be over and I'll be with my sister again. And I'll see my father for the first time in years.

I lay down back on the couch, letting my pounding head rest against the fluffy pillows beneath my head. I let my mind drift and before I know what's going through my head, I'm thinking about Peeta. I remember him staying inside my bedroom making more additions to the plant book after I broke my ankle. I think about his long blonde eyelashes and how I wondered they would never tangle together from their length. I feel his arms around me during the Victory Tour and those nights before the Quell announcement. His voice lulling me into a dreamless sleep where Peeta would be there to comfort me if I did have a nightmare. I think about his kind words and his generous heart. And even when he was still partially hijacked how he stopped me from killing myself. He must have had a small part of him inside which still cared… He's always been caring but since his hijacking, I've hardly seen that Peeta. And I doubt he'll come back ever… They broke him beyond repair.

I fall asleep dreaming of his scent- cinnamon and dill.

* * *

I wake to knocking.

 _Knocking?_ I wonder.

No one knocks here in the Village. The doors are always unlocked and it's only Haymitch and Greasy Sae who walk through those doors, but they never knock. Someone's knuckles strum against the wooden door again and it strikes me as weird. But, I don't move to see who. Whoever it is will disappear eventually. I'm not important. They don't really need to see me. They don't want to see me. They just are checking up on me, like everyone seems to be doing.

I start coughing hard, stabbing pain, wet coughs. I hear someone's voice outside, but it's drowned out by my loud coughs. I hear the door creak open, but I don't look up. My eyes are closed and I feel my chest start throbbing and burning. When it stops, bile and blood escapes my mouth instantly and covers the floor boards beneath me. My head starts furiously pounding and I spit out the remaining blood and bile. I feel someone's hand upon my back, but I cannot look up. I hear their voice, but it sounds so far away from my blocked ears. I feel myself drifting into sleep, my head starting to become light-headed and my body weak. I drift back to sleep, but not before I see blonde eyelashes.

* * *

Something isn't right.

I feel different.

Not myself, but where I am.

I want to open my eyes, but my eyelids are made of heavy metal. I hear voices again. Someone would think I'm starting to lose my mind if I didn't know these voices were real.

"Haymitch? What the hell?!" One voice shrieks.

"I'm sorry! I've been trying to finally heal for the first time in twenty-six years!" Haymitch yells back.

"Not good enough! You should have been looking out for her, not even after her, just seeing her to see if she was okay!" The other voice yells back.

"How many times do you want me to say 'I'm sorry!'?"

"I come back to her vomiting blood! It scared the hell out of me! It still is! How could she have gotten this sick?"

"I don't know, boy." Haymitch sounds suddenly softer.

"We need to get her to a hospital."

"Can't do that."

"Why not?!" The voice exclaims.

"Her banishment to 12. She can't leave for a year. That's what her trail ended up with."

There's silence for a small minute. Then I try to guess where I am from the smells and feels of the place I'm in. It smells warm and feels warm. Not just from my overheated body, but it feels cosy warm. What I sit in softer than my couch, almost feeling like a bed. But, not my bed. There's a smell which is familiar, a herb or spice. I can't figure out which one it is, but the smell is comfort… Well, it used to be comfortable. I'm wrapped up and I have a cold towel draped over my fore head. For the first time in weeks, my throat isn't aching and my chest isn't stinging. Whoever found me and is speaking downstairs, they must know a trick or something.

"You need to convince them, Haymitch. She needs medical attention!"

"You're the second person to tell me that in two days."

"Yeah! And for good reason!" He yells.

"Sober the hell up, Haymitch. She needs your help. You always chose her over me, so actually show you care and help her again!"

Peeta.

I must be in his house, in his warm bed. He found me. His blonde long eyelashes. His cinnamon and dill smell. His comfort. Peeta… He's here too early.

"I am sobering up. That old woman stole all of my alcohol…"

"And for good reason! Sleep it off, wake up and drink some coffee. Because as soon as you are waking up, you're trying to get her banishment revoked and you're going to be the Haymitch who actually cares!" Peeta yells.

I hear some mumbling from Haymitch and then a slam of a door.

As it'd have it, I feel the bile rising and bubbling. I groan and try to push off the bed covers. I need to get out of this bed. I push and pull at them, but they aren't budging. I let out a strangled cry and I hear my name being called, but I'm suffocated. I'm fighting the quilts and I'm losing. The bile is rising into my throat and I groan, my battle has come to an end.

"Katniss! Katniss! Hey! Hey!"

I feel his presence, but I don't pay any attention to it.

"Out!" I cry.

"I need to get out!" I exclaim.

Peeta starts to pull at the covers also, but he is successful. I leap out from the bed and I run to the bathroom. His house is identical to mine, so I don't have any trouble, especially when my head is barely in the bowl when I start vomiting everything up.

My hair gets in the way and it gets covered in vomit and seeing it makes the vomit come up twice as fast. Soon, I see the hair leave the bowl and I feel it all being held back. When I think it's stopped, Peeta's rubbing my back in large circles and it starts again. His voice softly calls my name, myself trying fast to get this horrible feeling from inside me. When it's over, I lean my head on the toilet seat, I look into Peeta's bedroom. Neat as a pin and completely spotless even though he must have only come back today. His brain is probably still messy, yet his room says otherwise. I start crying and it's loud, snotty sobs escaping my lips. I cry from the pain of being so deep in this sickness. I cry for Peeta's messed up brain and how his whole mind was changed. I cry for the loss of my sister. I cry for Finnick. I cry for everything which has been plaguing my mind since the end of the rebellion. Peeta's got his hands wrapped around my shoulders, his hands rubbing my arms. He whispers comforting things to me, but I don't listen.

Peeta's body leaves my crying one against the toilet seat. He's leaving. Good, I think. He should leave me here to rot away into nothing. I hear water start and it confuses me, but I don't stop crying. Soon, he's pulling me up from the toilet seat. I feel like a child the way he is handling me at these moments, especially when I refuse softly.

"Katniss? Please?"

His soft words break me and I give in, letting my arms drop to my sides. He hauls me up from the ground in his strong arms and sets up me up on my legs, against the bath.

"Take off your clothes and get into the water." He says, turning around to face the wall.

Even though I'm covered in my own vomit, he's still willing to give me space to change out of my clothes. He thought I was pure… He's just considerate. Too considerate for someone like me.

I stop crying and just silently let the tears slip down my cheeks. I peel off my clothes and then immerse myself into the hot water.

"Peeta…" I begin to say.

He turns around to see me in the filling tub and he walks over to the cabinets and start rummaging around. He comes back with lavender oil and some other fruity bubble mixture and he pours it into the hot water. He splashes some of it around so that it start bubbling and then he turns off the steady stream of water which was filling it. He goes back to the cabinet where he finds a hairbrush and some bottles I assume are for my hair. Then he sits on the large ledge which is the edge of the bath and tells me to lean my head back into the water. As I do, I whisper his name again.

"Sshh, Katniss." He whispers.

He runs his hands through my hair under the water to try and get out the vomit streaking my hair. He pulls me back up and I let the fumes from the bath fill my nose. The lavender sticks inside my nose while the soft scents of fruit keep a steady rotating motion inside my nose. He uses the brush to tether out the knots and clumps which have been there since my return back to 12. For minutes he softly untangles the knots with soft gentle strokes of the brush. Soon he's gliding the brush through my choppy, burnt hair and then I turn and grab his arm, stilling his movements with the brush. I look up into his slightly vacant eyes for the first time since I executed Coin. They're still the District 4 ocean blue which I remember, a colour which couldn't come already made in a bottle. They're looking softly at me, pain behind the ocean irises.

"Why are you doing this?"

He shutters a little with a deep breath out. His eyes close tightly and he shakes a little before he look back to me and says,

"Not even The Capitol or my nightmares could conjure up the image of you which I am seeing now."

I close my eyes and shudder. I let my hand slip down and into the lavender suds surrounding me. I don't open my eyes again for the rest of the bath. Peeta washes my hair and tells me to tip my head back into the water when he needs to wash out the soaps. He does it gently and with care, he's silent and pays only attention to the task at hand. I only pay attention to the soothing feeling of his fingers against my throbbing scull. The lavender soothes my churning stomach and calms me, especially with the addition of Peeta's fingers. This is the first time in months, almost a year since I was last relaxed. This is the first time I feel like I'm allowed to breathe and not be punished for it. First time in weeks I've been able to breathe and not feel completely horrible from pain when I do it, it still hurts, but not to the extent it was before.

"You're done, Katniss. Do you want to pull the plug and I'll get you a towel?" Peeta says, rubbing the back of my neck.

My mind is elsewhere. My thoughts, words and movements are summoned to silence from his callused fingers. His fingers are rubbing around my neck and coming around to the back of my neck.

"Katniss?" He whispers.

After a moment, I tiredly moan in reply.

"I'm going to go and get you a towel? Okay?"

Another tired moan.

His hands still stay on my neck.

"Can you pull the plug?"

My eyes open and I have to blink to see properly and then I look around to find the plug. I pull it up and hold it in my hand. Peeta's hand moves from my neck and he takes it from my hand and gets up from beside me. He leaves the bathroom and I just watch the water being drained from the bath. The waters almost completely gone, Peeta comes to the door, but he's looking away from me.

Soon I realise why he's standing in the doorway and looking away from me. I cover myself up and clear my throat softly. He looks wearily back at me, I nod, he comes back over and he holds the towel over the top of the bath, his head looking away again. I get up, gripping the side of the bath and when I'm level with the towel, I pick it up from Peeta's grips and I wrap it around my body. Peeta looks back at me and he hooks his hands under my armpits and he lifts me out of the bath. He puts me down onto the bathmat, holding his hand on my back.

"Can you walk?" He murmurs.

I nod slightly and I take a step forward. It's a little shaky after being in the bath for what felt like an amazing lifetime, then I take another step, stumbling on my feet.

"Hey! Hey!"

Peeta's hands are instantly on my hips holding me up. I close my eyes tightly and purse my lips when I feel my head starting to pound. A few moments later, I feel Peeta's head next to mine.

"Are you okay?" He whispers tenderly.

"Give me a second." I say softly, hoping it isn't going to set my head off on a rampage.

He's silent.

A few minutes pass and so does the stabbing pains in my head, so I bring my hand to his arm which was still holding onto me. I squeeze his arm and then place my other hand over the front of my towel. Peeta helps me back to his bedroom and onto the bed.

"Do you want me to go and get you some clothes from your house?"

I shake my head.

"I don't have any of your clothes here, Katniss."

"I don't want them." I grumble.

He sighs and gets up from his kneeling position in front of me.

"Do you want my clothes?"

I give him a subtle nod and he walks towards his wardrobe. A few moments go by and then he comes back out with some clothes. He passes them to me and I thank him. He gives me a weak smile before mumbling something about cleaning up the bathroom.

When I'm alone, I dry my body and put on Peeta's large clothes. Just wearing them gives me a sense of comfort and they have the typical Peeta smell. I have to tighten the drawstring on the sweats all the way so they don't fall down. I knock on the closed bathroom door so he knows the coast is clear. He comes out with my old clothes and some wet towels, face wet and a little red. I brush it off. I hold the towel awkwardly in my hands and then Peeta takes it from me, saying something about going to do the laundry. He asks me to stay in here and I oblige, laying down on the bed. A few minutes pass and I just lay on the bed and think about nothing. When Peeta comes back in, I turn my head to see the boy behind the heavy footsteps. Then we just stare at each other, my eyes looking at his desperately and his sadly towards me. He sighs and starts walking slowly towards the other side of the bed.

He climbs into the other side of the bed and he scoots close to me, pressing his body into mine. My body moulds into his and one of his hands wraps around my middle, pulling me against him and using the other hand to run through my hair. Then we just lay there, myself finally finding some kind of comfort for the first time in months. Peeta's face is buried in my neck and I feel his soft breath radiating over my skin and giving me goose bumps.

"Katniss?"

"What?" I whisper.

He takes a deep shaky breath and then it radiates against my cheek.

"How did this happen to you?" He murmurs into my hair.

His voice is small, concerned.

"I don't know."

"How long has this been happening?"

"I can't remember."

"Katniss…" He buries his head into my hair.

"Please tell me everything about what's been happening with this sickness." He begs.

And I do.

My constant racing heart. My vomiting spells which happen at least twice a day. The now reoccurring blood vomit. My coughing until I almost pass out. The small rash which I got on my legs a few weeks ago, but said nothing to anyone about. My constant throbbing head and growing dizzy almost every few minutes. My sore limbs even though I'm not doing anything to exert them. The swelling which I keep randomly getting across my fore head, legs and stomach.

After I tell him, I just push myself further into his arms and I try and sink away from this horrible world. Without permission, my eyes start to leak and I shake my head trying to rid of them.

"Katniss…" Peeta whispers into my ear, pulling me closer.

Again, without my permission a loud sob escapes my lips. And without wanting too, I start to speak.

"I'm just so weak!"

"No you're not." Peeta tries to assure me, failing instantly.

"I am, Peeta. I'm crying from the pain I've been in. I'm always crying from how horrible and sick I feel. I've had worse, yet all I do is just lay down and cry, vomit, refuse food, cough until I can't breathe. I just believe it's come to this. This is my life now. Sickness Everdeen." I try to joke, failing from my blabbering words.

I feel Peeta's hot, soft lips on my fore head and he presses a gentle kiss across my brow. I'm shaking from that contact again, but it could just be from my intense cries.

"Stop please, Katniss." He whispers, his lips still hovering over my brow.

I try to stop crying, but I just end up hiccupping.

"You're not weak. You're the strongest person I've ever met. This sickness may be making you feel weak, but you just lying in front of me shows how far you've come without any help. And now, I'm going to help you since no one else seems want or care too."

"Peeta, you're hijacked. You tried to kill me a few months ago. How are you even able to be this close to me without thinking murderous thoughts?" I throw at him, almost no remorse.

I don't care that was rough. I wanted to kill myself tonight. I wanted to finally stop my pain and now I have to live with it for longer. I know he has the best intentions, wanting to help me when no one else is here to do it. But, it seriously is in my interest. Peeta's been stuck in the Capitol since I left trying to get help with his hijacking. I want to know if it actually has done something.

Peeta's body stiffens behind me, his breath momentarily stopping before his breathing comes shakily onto my fore head.

"They tried everything to get the venom out of my system, but they couldn't. It's still in there, but they flushed as much as they could out. I have to get check up again in a month, see if the medication I'm on is helping to rid of it slowly. But, no. I am not having murderous thoughts. I haven't since they put me into hijacked mode a few weeks back, to see how long it can take for me to control it. It only took a few minutes for me to gain control. So, they made medication to help try to flush out the venom and control my mind from having a flashback."

"If I have one, I have medication I need to take straight away to try and stall it or even stop it from coming. And if I ever get out of control, Haymitch has a special knock out serum he needs to give me." Peeta concludes.

"So, no flashbacks pretty much?" I ask, a soft whisper.

"No flashbacks." He confirms.

For a minute, I allow myself to feel safe. Safe from the Capitol, safe from Mutt Peeta. The comfort surrounding me finally feels safe.

"I'm going to help you, Katniss. I need too. You need to feel better again. You need to roam around in your woods. You need to finally heal from all of these horrors we've faced in our lives. You need to finally live your life the way that you've always only thought could be a dream world. That world is now. And I'm going to help you get healthy again. You're not going to be alone in this."

Alone… I think.

This is the first time where I am not alone.

* * *

 **Hey! So, hope you like the first chapter. Went back and did some editing with the prologue because the first paragraph said 'thigs' instead of 'things'. OH MY GOD I ALMOST DIED WHEN I REALISED I DID THAT WHEN I POSTED IT! Anyways, I hope I'm tying in what Katniss said and thought within the prologue with what's going on in here. From here, as it says, Peeta and Haymitch will start busing themselves in trying to find a cure for Katniss and trying to revoke her banishment. Let's see how it all goes. But, I have some good ideas up my sleeve. Just gotta wait and find out what they are.**

 **As you can see, I made it that Peeta wouldn't get flashbacks and that they found his cure, somewhat. Thinking about Peeta having a flashback when Katniss is so sick and unable to move like a normal person makes me hurt inside because he could kill her. So, I needed that to happen. He may have one, but he's so strong that he can control it. Or, it overtakes him and that happens... Who knows... Just have to wait and find out.**

 **Please review. I love hearing what people have to say and what they think should happen. I'm up to any ideas. Throw them at me and I can try to incorporate them into the story. Because, I love making my readers happy! Reviews are like the combination of cinnamon and dill, oddly and greatly satisfying! Review please!**


	3. Chapter 2- Enquiries

**Chapter 2- Enquiries**

I fell asleep in Peeta's arms after our talk. I slept straight through without any nightmares. His arms fought them off. But, when I woke up, it wasn't to rising bile, the inability to breathe, nightmares scaring me awake, it was to feeling the coldness of the rest of the bed. I blink out the sleep from my eyes and I see the sun poured over the floor boards. Desperate to see where Peeta is and if he hasn't walked out on me, I get up from the bed and slowly make my way downstairs. My limbs are sore from the lack of movement since yesterday, worse because I actually slept through the night. Because I didn't sleep well before, I would walk around until I grew tired and passed out on the couch, nightmare filled sleep consuming me. I push the thought aside and I continue on my journey downstairs. When I get onto the ground level, I turn and see Peeta busying around in the kitchen.

The scent of honey overpowers my nose, but makes my insides feel warm. Not anything painful, but a good kind.

"Hi." I say, clearing my throat.

Peeta's jumps slightly, startled, before he turns around with a smile on his face.

"Hey, how are feeling?" He queers, walking out of the kitchen and towards me.

"Honestly?" I croak, my voice starting to go from the soreness in my throat.

He nods his head and feels my fore head to see my temperature, curiosity in his eyes and features.

"For the first time in weeks, I don't feel completely horrible."

Peeta's face lights up at my comment, his hands dropping from my fore head.

"Really?"

I moan in response.

Even though I'm capable of walking, Peeta still wraps an arm around my waist and helps me towards the island bench top and onto a stool in front of it. I lean my arms on the bench and watch him as he walks back over to the oven, stoves, sink and cupboards.

"I mean, I'm still hurting, but it's the least amount of pain I've been in for weeks. My throat hurts a little and my chest is starting to sting again, but I got a nightmare-free sleep for the first in ages." I tell him, knowing he probably wants to know how I'm exactly feeling so he can get started in trying to get me better.

He turns around from the oven and looks at me, arms spread across the other side of the island.

"Me too." Is all he says for a moment.

"Last time I slept like that was…"

"Before the Quell." He finishes my sentence.

"Yeah." I breathe in agreement.

Again, we just look at each other, saying nothing. Then Peeta pushes himself from the bench and towards a kettle on the stove which has just started whistling.

"You said you're throat and chest were hurting?" He asks from the stove.

"Yeah."

"Anything else?" He turns around and picks up a cup and ladle from the bench.

I think for a second.

"My body's stiff. But, I doubt you can try to fix that with special remedy."

He snorts softly before shaking his shaggy hair around.

"No, I don't. Answer me this, did your throat and chest hurt after you woke up yesterday afternoon?"

"No." I answer.

"Well, good. Because, I think I found a remedy for that…" He says, turning around to face me, the same cup in his hands.

He passes it to me across the bench top.

I shakily wrap my hands around the warm cup and I look down into the steaming cup. I look back up to Peeta to see his eyes trained carefully on me. I don't want to disappoint him if this goes the wrong way, since he's already started to try and help me and it's maybe nine in the morning. I bring the cup to my lips and I take a sip, feeling the syrupy liquid swirl around my mouth and then down my red hot throat. My throat is almost instantly stopped of its burning hatred by the honey and lemon tasting tea. My eyes flick up to Peeta's to see him still staring at me waiting for anything.

"Well?" He asks softly.

I nod my head.

"It's good."

He chuckles a small amount at my comment.

"I don't care if it's good or not, is it working?" He asks with a soft smile.

I smile up at him from the top of my cup and nod before taking another sip. He physically relaxes and it makes me smile into my cup as I swallow some more of the tea.

"My Dad used to make me this whenever I was feeling sick and had a sore throat. Always did the trick for me. It makes me feel… comfort."

As Peeta recalls this, his brow is knitted together, eyes closed and his body slack. I feel sad for him as he brings up the man he hasn't really had time to mourn. The man who made Peeta the kind and beautiful hearted boy who was picked for the Hunger Games and parts of that boy, now a man, who stands in front of me.

"Whenever I smell and taste this, it takes me back to when I was a small boy in the back of the bakery at night or in the early morning. It made me feel loved since my mother would just hit me in the back in the head whenever I would complain."

I cringe thinking about the black eyes and bruises across his body which were always present on his body as a child. She was a horrible woman. I would never do such a thing to my own children… If I ever wanted them in the first place.

"He was a great man. Always so kind and thoughtful. I'd like to think I got his traits and not my mothers." He says sadly, bowing his head and letting it hang in the air.

I feel tears gather in my eyes as I see his pain. But, I don't let the fall. I lean over in the chair, pushing my cup to the side and placing my hand over Peeta's strained one. I call out his name, my voice strained from the tears gathered inside my eyes. He looks up at me with sad eyes, teary but not letting them fall the same as I am. My eyes are blurry, but not from the tears, they're almost tired, yet I've been asleep for the longest time in months.

"You are the kindest and most thoughtful person I've ever met." My voice croaks.

He says my name after I say this, but I shush him softly, stopping him instantly. When I open my mouth next, everything flies out and I can't stop it.

"You inherited the best genes a parent can ever give their child. You care about people more than you care about yourself, always putting others in front of yourself. Sometimes that isn't the best thing for you to do, yet you still do it. Because you are just the most amazing kind hearted person that has ever lived. You think your father was, I think so too from what I knew of him. But, you Peeta… you are everything he was and more. You didn't inherit anything from you mother. You have never been her and you never will be. You don't have a single bad bone in your body. Your hijacking doesn't count. That isn't you."

When I finish even I'm surprised at myself for what spilled out from my mouth. I said exactly what I thought without a second thought, which is one of the things which I've never done. I must still be asleep from sleeping throughout the night. Peeta's eyes are wide and staring at me. At first, I think I've done something wrong from him not saying anything.

"Is that what you really think of me?" He asks, voice steady and monotone.

I shrug my shoulders softly and pull my hand back.

"Yeah." My voice soft, persistent in what I said, yet unsteady at the same time.

He is silent again. And I definitely think I've done something wrong. Especially when he pushes himself off from the bench and starts to walk away from me. Then I don't know what I've done. I don't ever speak my mind, did I say something wrong?

His heavy footsteps stop next to me and I turn my head to see him right next to me. Before I know what's going on, his arms are around me and holding my weak body against his own. From first being startled at this, it takes me a little bit longer to finally wrap my arms around him too and letting my hand run up and down his tense back.

"Thank you." He breathes into my neck, pushing his head into my hair.

"You're welcome." I whisper back, letting myself finally hold Peeta up instead of him doing it for me like he usually does.

We stay like that for a few minutes before the oven beeps and Peeta has to break away to go and pull out whatever is in there. He pulls out some bread rolls and before the smell hits my nose, I know what they are.

"Cheese buns?"

Peeta turns back with a small smile on his face, throwing the towel he used to pull out the hot tray over his shoulder.

"Yeah. You like them. Real or Not Real?" He asks, brow knitting together slightly.

"Real." I confirm.

His crooked smile turns into a wide one and he chuckles slightly.

"I'm glad I remember." He throws out into the open, to himself more than to me.

I give him a small smile, he returns it.

Sadly, my body doesn't like the fact I've been happy and feeling okay for hours on end. I feel the bubbling feeling inside my stomach and it makes me groan, eyes closing and my head almost instantly starting to throb.

"Katniss?" I hear.

My body feels like it's burning and the bubbling is climbing and making me feel horrific. I push myself out of the stool and I start on my journey towards the downstairs bathroom. When my face is in the toilet bowl, I finally allow it to escape. I feel Peeta's hand on my back, soothing me and pulling my hair from my face. This happens for a few minutes and then I spit the foulness from my mouth into the bowl. I groan and wipe my sweaty fore head.

"Oh Katniss…" I hear Peeta sigh.

"Peeta, I'm fine." I groan, lying through my pores as I feel horrible and extremely overheated.

Peeta clicks his tongue in disagreement behind me and sweeps the hair from my neck again and gasps.

"Katniss, you're burning up."

"Welcome to my life…" I sigh.

Peeta gets up from behind me and I instantly miss his presence. I hear the water running and I take this time to close the toilet lid and wash away the horribleness inside it. I move away from the toilet and push myself away to the baths edge, leaning up against it. I look up at Peeta to see him with a towel which he is dampening. He turns around and kneels down beside me, placing the cold damp towel over my clammy neck. I shiver a little at first but then I sigh, leaning into it.

"Is that better?" He murmurs.

I sigh in agreement and let the damp towel cool me down.

Peeta wet the rest of my head to ensure I was as cool as I could get, also my arms. After the towel was hot from my burnt skin, he rung it out and them hung it back up. He helped me up from the ground with my arms, I lean over the sink and rinse out my mouth. When I'm convinced the taste is gone, I set off walking slowly towards the hallway. I hear the front door swing open as soon as I am in the hallway and I look to see the intruder. Haymitch. After his drunken rants about me not really being super sick, I feel somewhat resentful towards him. I know it was wasn't him really, something like Peeta's hijacked side, but it still hurts coming from him. Considering he is probably the closest thing I have to father figure. I glare at him from the hallway as I hold out my hand to steady myself so I can walk. Peeta comes from behind me, his hand still on my lower back.

"Boy!" Haymitch yells, not knowing he is behind me.

I look up to Peeta, his head looking up to the end of the hallway where Haymitch stands in his foyer. Our movements stop for a second and I watch Peeta's face go hard.

"Are you sober? Because if you're not, you can leave right now." Peeta states sternly.

Haymitch looks to see us and he throws his arms down defensively.

"For me, sadly. For you, happily." He tells us.

I start walking again, Peeta slightly stiff behind me, but he still helps me. It seems like an over exaggeration, but I've fallen over and tripped so many times from my clumsiness.

"Now that's an over exaggeration!" Haymitch calls from the hallway.

I look up to him and scoff. Peeta steps from behind me into the main part of the hallway.

"See, this is the shit I didn't want you to do!" Peeta yells defensively back towards him.

I've never heard Peeta curse. He must be very angry. I can feel the anger radiating off of him. His left hand is still securely on my back.

"I'm joking, boy." Haymitch laughs.

"This is no time to be laughing and joking around! I'm asking for your help! Don't be an asshole!" Peeta roars next to me.

I shiver from the anger which is coming from him.

Haymitch composes himself and looks Peeta straight into the eye.

"I'm sorry."

"You should be!" Peeta shoots back instantly.

His head bows down to mine and he whispers,

"Come on."

We start walking together, Peeta gesturing Haymitch into the living room. Peeta helps me onto the couch, throwing a blanket over me, glaring at Haymitch and heading back into the kitchen. Haymitch takes a seat directly across from me, resting his elbows onto his knees and knotting his hands together. He looks at me and I can only glare at him.

"So, you're really sick?" He asks, even more a statement.

"Yes!" I spit at him.

He sighs and throws his head back for a second.

"I'm sorry. I thought it was just from you being depressed and barely eating since your—"

"Don't even talk about _her_!" I warn, my expression hard and voice raspy from vomiting.

Again, his hands go up in his defensive pose. Maybe he should shut his god damn mouth before I sew it shut. He stays quiet and I sink back into the couch. When Peeta's heavy footsteps grow close again, I look up from the arm of the chair. Peeta carries my cup and he passes it to my open hand. It's warm again and I assume he has added more hot water into it. I lean my head over and take a sip as he sits carefully by my feet. One of his hands come around to rub my leg. Soothing sensations run through my body and then Peeta's hand leaves my leg, knotting them together in front of him.

"Have you made any progress?" Peeta questions, voice still hard and determined like it was before.

Haymitch sighs, rubbing his hand over his face and groaning.

"I've been up since six. Had three cups of coffee and pissed like a horse—"

"What have you done since six?" Peeta demands, interrupting him.

"Calling anyone and everyone, for a matter of fact."

Haymitch kicks back in his chair and stretches out his arms. I look back to Peeta and he nods at Haymitch.

"Go on." He pushes.

Haymitch nods and sighs, pushing himself back into a sitting position as he looks between Peeta and I.

"I tried to get through to President Paylor first off. I needed to see if Katniss' banishment could be reprimanded because of her sickness."

He pauses.

"And?" Peeta asks.

" _And_ … Nothing today. I was put through to Plutarch, who sends his deepest regards and a healthy recovery. He said he could try and see what he could do considering he is close to her. He said to call back in a few days to see how far he had gotten."

Peeta fidgets in his seat, rocking back and forth a little bit before he runs his hands through his hair, frustrated.

"A few days?!

"Peeta, that's the best that I could do." Haymitch says, almost sympathetic.

Peeta jumps up from the couch and starts pacing. One of his hands rests against his temple and the other on his waist. His breathing becomes shallow and short, movements sharp and fast. Haymitch notices what I do, getting up and stopping Peeta in his tracks and looking up to him.

"Peeta…" Haymitch says carefully.

Peeta's eyes looks desperately into Haymitch's, wide and his whole body physically shaking. His nostrils are flared and his fists clenched beside him.

"Breathe. Don't let it take you."

I put my cup down onto the ground and I lean up in the chair, sitting on the edge. I watch Peeta cautiously, getting to my feet. Peeta's eyes close and he starts to take deep breaths. I walk up to him, Haymitch stepping aside. I look up into his tense and scrunched up face. My body feels weak and I'm a little lightheaded. I keep looking up at him as I bring my arms around his waist. He grows instantly tense and his eyes shoot open, looking down at me. I pull him close to me and I keep my eyes on him.

"Close your eyes, Peeta." I whisper.

He looks at me for a second, trying to find something in my face before his eyes fall shut.

"Take a deep breath for me, Peeta."

He breathes slowly.

"Good. Can you say my name?"

"Katniss." His voice strained and weary.

"Who else is with us?"

"Haymitch." He whispers the same as my name.

"Yes. Now, why am I in your house?"

Now he stalls. His body tenses again and his breath is rapid for a moment. I wait for his breath and body to go back to normal. When it does, he murmurs,

"We're trying to get you help. I'm looking after you. Because the thought of you killing yourself over this or you dying from sickness will kill me. Because… because…"

He pauses, not knowing what to say and if he can actually say it.

"Because my nightmares have always been about losing you and if that happens, I can't just wake up after it happens."

I feel my heart start racing and not from this sickness, from the kindness of his heart. Even in the calming down from a small flashback by the anger caused by myself not getting the help which I need as soon as possible, his heart is as large as any other man's I've met. I see his eyes flutter open and his eyes look down to mine, filled with something I haven't seen in those eyes for months. Love and desire. His eyes look down to my lips and I gasp, before he can do anything I push my head against his chest. My heart is beating even harder now. Thinking about kissing Peeta again just made me as lightheaded as I've ever felt. But I can't do that. I can't let myself get attached to him. I can't leave my heart on a string. I can't build up and blossom a love which is just going to end as soon as it starts. I cannot let that happen. I can't break his heart again. I don't want to do that to him again. He's too special to me and I care about him way too much to let that happen.

I hold onto Peeta tightly, knowing that he's still trying to come down from the flashing inside his head. I listen to his heart beating softly beneath my ear against his solid chest. His arms are wrapped tightly around my shoulders, his head resting against my hair. His lips press against my hair covered head, lingering for a bit longer than he should have. It made my insides flutter and my mouth gape against his cotton white shirt.

"Are you okay, boy?" Haymitch asks from behind me.

His head weight lifts from my head and his voice is small as he answers,

"Yeah."

"Sweetheart?"

I turn around in Peeta's arms to look at him.

"I'm fine."

I hold his gaze for a few moments. Eyes are wrinkled from age, dark under eyes, hair greasy and shaggy from the lack of cleanliness. His soberness already wearing into his face, he looks like he did back in 13.

"I'm going to help you, sweetheart. I have too. Now, it doesn't seem likely that you're going to be pardoned so you can get medical help in District 4 or the Capitol, from what Plutarch was telling me earlier."

Peeta stiffens again, but I start running my hand around his back. Soon, he calms and Haymitch continues.

"I did look into getting a medical team out here from somewhere in Panem. You need to be looked at so you can start getting treatment and medical help." He says.

I nod in agreement.

"I thought you might want someone close to you to do all of the—"

I shake my head vigorously knowing what he's getting at.

"Sweetheart—"

"No!" I exclaim.

"She's made it pretty clear that she isn't coming back here. So, don't try. I don't care who comes. Just leave her out of this. If and when she realises how bad it really is, she can decide whether her only living daughter's health is as important as the people ghosts of who she lost." I throw out at Haymitch, not caring really whether it sounds harsh or not. She's being harsh to me from being as selfish as I am known to be.

"I already called her."

"What?!" I exclaim, stepping away from Peeta's embrace and walking closer to him.

"She's your mother…"

"And a selfish coward!" I yell.

"She still loves you, you're her daughter."

"And she left me and _Prim_ to die after Dad died." Saying her name makes tears instantly come down my cheeks and puddle on my chest. I feel one of Peeta's hands holding my arm, I yank it away and choke out a sob.

"That is not the act of a mother towards her children. And I can tell you right now, if I wasn't so sick and could have kids, even though I don't want them, I would _never_ abandon them! _Ever!_ " I roar.

Haymitch's eyes flicker from my face up to Peeta's, himself being very quiet behind me. In my anger, I push away the streams of water against my face and I storm away from them. My body fuelled by anger and allowing me to rush away without stumbling. Peeta rushes towards me, hands ready to catch my weak body. I spin around on my heels and hold my finger out accusingly against his chest.

"Don't!" I growl.

His face falls and then I turn and storm away. I go straight to the back door and I rip it open, now stumbling outside, slamming the door behind me, rattling the glass windows. I plonk down on the balcony stairs, hanging my head into my hands. Then I let my anger fade into nothing and the sadness overtake me.

I don't know how long I sit crying, but I don't get interrupted for what seemed like hours. I know an outburst like that will soon take a toll onto my body. It hasn't happened yet, but when I calm down I can imagine the pain and suffering I'm predicting will overcome me. Eventually, I hear the door creak and heavy footsteps walking towards me. I sigh, bringing my head back up to look into Peeta's unmaintained garden.

"He had no right at all to call her without my permission." I say hard, another tear falling from my eye and onto my burning cheeks.

"I know." Peeta says weakly, feeling his presence right beside me.

He takes his time in lowering himself onto the steps, from his leg, then letting out a sigh. He cautiously wraps an arm around my shoulders, I melt in them and he rubs my arm. I lean my head over, pressing it into his neck, his head dropping onto mine.

"He isn't going to do anything like that again without your permission. I made sure he understood that." He whispers into my hair.

I let out another shaky breath and the tears start again, but this time, I have arms around me to assure me that _hopefully_ everything will be okay. If not forever, now.

* * *

That night, I fell back asleep in Peeta's arms. My body was exhausted when I finally stopped crying, letting the rest of my body catch up with me. I could barely walk, so I stayed on the couch until I absolutely had too. Then, Peeta, bless him, was there instantly helping me anywhere I wanted to go. When I was on the couch, I kept falling asleep. Peeta kept waking me up, trying to coerce food into me. But, I wasn't in the mood and denied it all. Eventually, he made soup and I got a little bit of that in. I was back asleep minutes after I consumed it. When I woke again, I realised I was in bed and wrapped in Peeta's warm and comfortable arms. I fell back asleep instantly, sleeping through until early, early the next morning. I woke feeling horrific, not even making it out of bed before blood poured from my lips and onto the floorboards. Awake straight away, Peeta was helping me through it and making sure I was fine and drinking some liquids before I could fall back asleep again. When I woke later in the morning, the blood was gone and my hair was brushed.

The bed was cold, but I didn't move, I was stuck in bed by my exhaustion and pounding head. I looked to my bedside table and saw a glass of water. Realising my thirst and rough throat and mouth, I picked it up and leaned over, taking a sip. When I was satisfied by the cool liquid, I closed my eyes and tried to push the glass onto the bedside table again. But, I missed, it going crashing to the ground with a loud SMASH! I curse at my idiocy, turning over and looking over to the glass slivers over the ground. I hear heavy footsteps in the distance and I groan. I get up in bed, throwing the covers from my body and looking over at my mess, wanting to clean it up before Peeta has to. But, I realise any step I take from this side is going to lead to another lot of pain I don't need inflicted on my body.

"Katniss? Are you alright?"

I turn to see Peeta already walking into the bedroom, realising the result of the smashing sound. Mindful of the glass, he walks around to bigger pieces, not caring to get it into his boots.

"I'm fine. Just a klutz!" I tell him, almost on the verge of a breakdown from my complete incoordination and idiocy.

I throw my hands up in the air and then let them cover my hands, trying to hide my sadness in myself.

"Hey! Hey! Katniss— It's just a glass. I've done it many times."

I feel his arms on mine. I remove my hands from my face to see Peeta standing in the glass in front of him.

"Don't worry about it, Peeta. I am going to clean it up." I turn around from his arms, trying to slide off the end of the bed.

He moves towards me, holding me softly on the bed.

"Stay. I'm fine to clean it up."

I open my mouth to argue more, but all that happens is Peeta cuts me off. He brings a hand behind my neck and looks me deep in the eyes. Now, I let my heart to fasten at the look inside his eyes. It's nothing but understanding and that obvious Peeta attitude, do anything if it makes Katniss happy and smile. I feel a sudden guilt, but it flows away when he leans in and my breath stops. When I think his lips will press against my own, I'm not let down by feeling his hot, soft lips against my fore head. I wasn't ready for a proper kiss from Peeta, but that made my heart leap enough.

Then Peeta sets to cleaning the glass back up, doing it without a single worry or anything. I feel so bad for him doing it because I cannot do it myself. It makes me feel so weak.

"I'm sorry you have too—"

"Don't be." Peeta cuts my sentence, looking up at me sympathetically.

He smiles weakly.

"It feels like the least I can do. Considering…"

He doesn't need to finish or find words, we both know what the 'considering' means. I close my eyes and listen to Peeta sweep up all of my mess. Soon, there's no sounds and I look up to Peeta looking for any smaller pieces. When he finds none, he nods his head once before walking away into the bathroom to dispose of the glass fragments. Peeta comes back in and looks down at me.

"How are you today?"

I nod my head slightly, closing my eyes as I do.

"Not bad."

When I open my eyes to look into Peeta's, they are narrowed looking into mine, searching my eyes.

"So not good?"

I look at him unimpressed, throwing my hands up from the bed and back down again.

"I'm probably dying—"

"You're not dying." Peeta interrupts.

"So, I can't exactly be peachy." I say sarcastically.

Peeta leans down, wrapping his arms around me. I wrap my arms and rest my hands on his shoulders. His body is tense, yet deflated at the same time. Only I could cause such a thing to happen to a person. I let myself melt into his embrace, also allowing his to lift me from the bed. I don't struggle. What's the point? Peeta carries me downstairs, setting me on a stool in the kitchen, bringing me another honey and lemon tea. As I sip it, the door opens and Peeta and I both look towards the door, seeing Haymitch walking inside.

"It's getting colder out there." He says, rubbing his hands over his arms as he walks over to us.

"Hey Haymitch." Peeta says, being the kind Peeta we're used to.

Peeta plonks himself down on the chair next to me as Peeta pushes a cup of black sludge into his direction. Haymitch's eyes light up as he grabs the cup, bring it to his lips.

"Any news? I assume that's why you're here." Peeta says, also pushing a cheese bun from yesterday in his direction.

He agrees with a sound inside his cup, taking one last sip before letting the cup rest back against the bench top. He finishes his mouthful and then says,

"I do have news. Just nothing no one wants to hear."

"Oh no." Peeta whispers.

"She can't get her banishment revoked."

Peeta's head drops, shaking like a doll in a child's fist, uncontrollable. Peeta sighs, I don't bother to show anything different to what I'm thinking. I knew it wouldn't be revoked. If it was, I would have been surprised. I killed the future president of Panem. That almost deserves longer, but they only settled for a year.

"Katniss, I'm sorry." Haymitch whispers beside me.

I smile into my cup, keeping my eyes now trained on the light brown coloured hot water.

"I knew it couldn't be revoked. But, thanks for trying." I say sincerely.

Peeta sighs, not agreeing with what I say, but I thank him for being one of the only people having hope.

"So, we have to get people out here to look at her." Peeta persists.

"Yes. That is possible, thank God." Haymitch says with a sigh of relief.

"Get anyone aside from _her_. I don't care who." I state, pushing myself from my seat and taking my cup as I walk away and into the lounge room.

I sit on the couch and drink my tea, listening in on their conversation. Nothing interesting. Just the same kinds of things which I've heard them talking about before. Soon Haymitch leaves and Peeta joins me on the couch, he rubs heat into my feet. And I can only thank him. But, he just brushes me off. He doesn't realise how much it means that he is here with me. No idea…

* * *

 **I'm so happy with all of the kind and happy reviews I'm getting. I'm glad people are actually liking this story! It's seriously inspiring to hear what people have to think about what I've written. Definitely gets the creative juices flowing! I accept all ideas and try to incorporate them into the ideas I already have. Definitely keep them coming if you have one. Because in this fic, almost everything is possible! Ahaha.  
Thank you guys so much. I love you all! And please review! The inspiration is like Peeta's paintings. Incredible, but with some dark meanings written into them. :)**


	4. Chapter 3- Diagnosis

**Chapter 3- Diagnosis**

* * *

Three days later, two doctors arrive at Peeta's door. I don't know who they are, but I know Haymitch respected my wishes with not inviting my mother. We're all worried about what kind of thing they are going to say I have. Peeta has been running on almost no sleep because he's been too busy worrying after me. I've tried to be as low maintenance as possible, but I cannot help when he runs after me. Haymitch's showing his concern in the way of sarcasm, yet we all know it's a cover up for the horrors which he imagines. I've been the same. I am scared, but I tried to make peace with any soon death before Peeta came back. I'm still like that somewhat. I just don't know what to expect from their examination. The blood vomit came back again all day yesterday and this morning. And I don't think it's going to be the last time either.

Haymitch walks in with the doctors trailing behind him, introducing themselves as Anitae- blonde hair pushed into a tight bun, green eyes and standing tall above the other one, Bevenli. She is close to my height, striking red hair left flowing down her shoulders, brown eyes and freckles spotted over her face. I nod my head at them, a small smile upon my lips, showing the gratitude I have for them coming here. Peeta introduces himself, thanking them immensely compared to my smile of gratitude. Bevenli lead up by Haymitch to Peeta's bedroom to help set up whatever they needed to set up for the examination. Peeta sits beside me, hand rubbing my leg again as Anitae seats herself opposite me. She starts to ask questions, before I could answer any of them, Peeta is straight away answering them to the best of his ability from what I've told him. Anything he doesn't know, he looks over at me and I answer it. She asks me about any family known illnesses or diseases, previous illnesses, symptoms, period regulation, then she asks about my sex life.

"Are you currently sexually active?" Anitae asks, looking slightly between Peeta and I.

I blush furiously, my whole body growing hot and not some weird hot flush which I get from time to time. The tension is awkward and a pin could drop and it would sound like a crash.

"No." I answer.

"Have you ever been sexually active?"

I lean back in the seat, wishing to escape these questions. I feel Peeta's eyes on me, knowing he is wondering the same thing. He could think I did things with Gale, but I would never do things like that with Gale, let alone anyone else. I blush at just the thought of having sex with someone.

"No." I stutter, blushing like the colour of the beets in Peeta's back garden.

I almost feel Peeta's whole body deflating in relief.

After a few more questions, they ask me to go up to Peeta's bedroom so they can perform all of the tests and examination that they want to. I want to walk up myself, show them that I'm not completely weak, but Peeta's instantly on my tail, holding a hand across my waist to keep me up as we walk up the stairs. In his room, they say that he should wait downstairs. At first he's against it, wanting to make sure that all things are done properly. But, I turn to him and run a hand through his hair, resting my hand on his shoulder.

"I'll be fine. Go and relax downstairs." I tell him.

He huffs, nodding his head then scoffing.

"Relax?"

He lets out a breathy chuckle irritated, turning away from me and walking back downstairs. I take a deep breath and walk inside, Bevenli closing the door behind me. I lay on the bed and Bevenli comes to my side, picking up a needle.

"Let's get started."

* * *

They don't know what I've got, they conclude after some of their fast Capitol machines work on the blood tests and all of other tests I can't even begin to explain. Peeta is instantly asking about their qualifications and wondering whether something is wrong with the machines. I just sit silently, knowing that there's nothing they can do now. Peeta is talking with Haymitch and Bevenli in the kitchen, whilst Anitae is sitting across from me, saying nothing much. She kind of reminds me of my mother, blonde hair, tall and lean, and focussed solely on her work. I can almost see her brain ticking through the ideas in her head. Bevenli said her conclusion, but Anitae is still trying to figure out what she thinks it could be. Peeta's kinda dismissed her for the moment. He's too focussed on trying to get more possibilities and asking Bevenli, I know he's trying to do the best thing. But, I like Anitae. And I'm not ready to dismiss her and her ideas.

Like an oven timer ringing to alert the cooked goods inside, Anitae's face lights up, softly slapping her hand on her leg, looking at me.

"What is it?" I ask softly, voice croaky again.

Her brows narrow, running one of her fingers across her lip.

"I think I know of something…" She ponders to me, grabbing a large textbook like folder from her bulky brown tattered bag next to her.

She flips through the pages, looking over each title, each word, trying to find what she is thinking of. As she continues to look, she mutters,

"Only a specialist is allowed to diagnose it. One person being that specialist in the whole of Panem…"

"Who?"

"His name is Dr Raglyn. He's in the Capitol. Only one other case I think was ever documented, himself taking a big interest in the incurableness of it."

"Incurable?"

We both turn our heads to see Peeta standing in the doorway. He's looking Anitae with concern, worry. Even incurable made my heart flutter with worry.

"Don't quote me yet, Mr Mellark."

"Don't say _incurable_ and not think it's going to get my attention. Why incurable?"

Peeta walks into the room, standing behind me. I feel his hand come to rest on my shoulder, rubbing my back with his strong fingers. Anitae lets out a little, "Yes!" when she finds the pages she was looking for. She starts to skim read and then slaps her hand on the page, looking back up to me and then to Peeta.

"It's called Imunciousis. Well, could be. We'd have to do more tests and have to get you to the Capitol to get an appointment with him."

"Can't do that." Haymitch says, walking back into the room with Bevenli on his tail.

"Why not? She needs medical attention. Extreme attention. She needs to get to the Capitol."

"Did you not hear or see of her murdering the wrong president? She's got a banishment here for a year—"

"She doesn't have a year!" Anitae exclaims frustrated.

Even my breath gets stuck in my throat. I swear the sadness, frustration, and anger radiating off of Peeta is more than it ever has before.

"You don't even know if she has it! So, don't say anything like that!" He yells.

"It's the best suggestion of an illness that we have at the moment. I don't see anything else coming to mind which seems to be the same as what symptoms relate too. If she can't see him, you need to get him here. As soon as possible."

We look over at Haymitch, who sighs at the sight of all of the eyes on him.

"Fine. But you better get better after this specialist gets here. I'm going to have to pay big bucks for this."

"Sir, the probability of her living is—"

"She will get better!"

For the first time, I smile at Haymitch's comment. For the first time since my return back to Twelve, he is showing his love for me. Which we all know that he has, just refuses to show it. The same as me. We are too scary alike. And I don't like it much…

"She has too after I pay this guy. Because she's going to have to be paying me back for the rest of her life."

And the typical Haymitch comes back…

* * *

Anitae and Bevenli stay in one of the other Victors' Village houses. Haymitch goes to make calls over in his house and Peeta and I sit on the couch, not doing anything but thinking. My chest starts burning as I sit on the couch with Peeta. I become uncomfortable quickly in the position I was in, starting to move around in my seat, trying to find a comfortable position again. Peeta must realise my uncomfortable nature and he looks over at me.

"Are you okay?" He asks, looking deflated and not wanting to move.

"Just dying, Peeta." I say sarcastically but also not, leaning against the back of the chair, closing my eyes.

"Don't say that." He whispers.

My comfort with closed eyes stay for a short amount of time. My eyes fly open and I look at Peeta like he's crazy. Not in a hijacked Peeta way, but with the fact that he thinks that I am actually going to get out of this.

"Peeta. It's going to happen!" I exclaim.

"You don't know that." He says softly.

I scoff, not wanting to have this conversation, but it's just developing.

"Don't know that? I do, Peeta! It's inside me! It's making me feel horrible and all of these things! No one should ever live after the shit I'm living through!"

He looks taken aback, but I needed to say it. He can't feel what I'm feeling, know the pain which I feel almost constantly. He shakes his head and turns to look directly at me.

"We should at least try!" He pleads.

"There's no 'we', Peeta! It's you and that's it!"

If he could look any worse, he does now. He's shocked to hear such things come out of my mouth. I am too, but I'm just trying to express myself.

"I don't care anymore, Peeta. I hate this and I hate this life. I have nothing else to live for… Prim is gone, she was why I was still going on! Gale killed her! This is just constantly making me feel pain, this sickness and dreaming about Gale killing my little sister. And I'm sick of it. I don't want to live a longer life if this is all I have left of my life. Pain, hurt and then the constant hurting from people seeing me like this. You shouldn't have ever come back here, Peeta. There's nothing left for you here. I'm just a bag of blood and bones and misery. And you're being held back from life because of me. I shouldn't be making you feel this way. You don't need my toxic lifestyle in yours."

When I finish, Peeta just stares at me. He tried to interject many times, but I couldn't help the words which were escaping my lips. And I didn't want them to stop. Peeta shakes his head and turns it away from me, letting it hang low on his shoulders. He's now wordless. Murmurs something so softly I can't catch it. Then he pushes himself up and he lets out a large sigh.

"So…"

I look up at him to see his eyes staring at the floor. His eyes flicker to mine and I can almost see them starting to glaze, but they don't. But the pain is real behind those blue beauties.

"You don't want me here, helping you?"

I bite my lip and unwillingly nod.

"I'm just holding you back from a life you deserve to finally live."

Peeta lets out a shaky breath and then turn on his heels.

"Okay. If that's what you want." He says to me, walking out the door of his home before I can stop him.

As soon as I realise what I've done, I rush up the stairs to Peeta's bedroom, collapsing on the bed, in a heap of tears and deep regrets.

* * *

I'm jolted awake by a door shutting. I realise I am still in Peeta's bedroom. I hear the heavy footsteps and it makes me close my eyes. I don't want him to see me like this. So, I will just pretend to be asleep, like a small child. I remember Prim doing that sometimes when I'd come back from hunting. I'd rouse her by kissing her head and then tickling her. _Prim…_ I hear his footsteps getting closer and it makes me want to close my eyes even tighter, but I keep my facial expression the same. The bed dips and I have to keep my breath steady to not show my racing heartbeat beneath the sheets. He lets out a deep breath and I feel his hand in my hair. I don't move a muscle to show him my awake state. He pushes my hair back and I hear the bed creak as well as feel it move. Then I feel his hot, wet lip against my forehead.

"I'm never going to leave you alone, Katniss." He whispers so softly against my brown locks.

He moves back and then continues to stroke my hair.

"I'm in love with you. That has never changed inside my heart. No matter what horrible hijacking thing can be done to my body and mind. My heart only belongs to you."

My heart is racing like a bullet train. I can't believe he just said that. He loves me. Not just that, he's in love with me. Still! After everything that's happened. Oh my Peeta…

"You may ask me to leave, but that's never going to happen. I'm going to stay here and make sure you get as much help as you can get. Because, I want to have a life with you. I want to finally have the life that you wish upon me, but with you. Not someone else. Never anyone else. Only you."

He takes a deep breath and then tells me the most heart wrenchingly loving thing to me. One I'll remember for the rest of my life.

"You'll make it out of this sickness and we will finally be able to love each other like normal people. We'll fight. And we'll hate each other. But, we will realise how silly we are being and we'll be back to loving each other all over again. We'll make love one day and I'll make sure that you feel as beautiful, as extraordinary, and as loved as you deserve to feel, better than any other woman has in the whole world."

"I'll teach you to bake, well, I'll try my hardest!" He chuckles softly and it almost makes me smile.

"But, I don't know whether our house will survive it. Let alone the Victors' Village. If we survive, that afternoon, I'll paint you on the porch, in the afternoon sun and looking as radiant and as beautiful as you always are."

He lets out another shaky breath, but gets out what he wants with an obvious smile on his face.

"One day, after many, I'll ask you to marry me. I'll be so nervous. But, I'll still be so in love with you that it'd override my nerves. You may say yes straight away, or you'll rip my whole soul out and run away scared. I'd understand and realise this isn't the life you would want. I'd be heartbroken, but I'd not care because you would find the life you deserved to live if you didn't want me inside yours. But, _hopefully_ would come to your senses and come crying back. And I'd just propose all over again. Then when you do say yes, we'll make love passionately and I'll make you feel even more loved. Because, I'll be the happiest man to ever walk the earth. We'll be like the teenagers we were when you finally got rid of this sickness."

"Effie will plan our wedding. And we'll have to say no to a million things because she will want something over the top for us. But, I wouldn't care. Because as long as you become my wife, I couldn't care less what we did. But, in the end, I'd be perfect because Effie only wants the best for her Victors. Haymitch will walk you down the aisle, in a beautiful dress I'll be sure to cry over when I see you walking towards me. I'll be in my best black and white suit, but nothing will upstage how perfectly beautiful you will look. A bouquet of primroses will be in your hands, one attached to my suit because she will be a part of our wedding. After more tears from both of us, we'll say I do and walk down the aisle together as one. Mr and Mrs Mellark. Our hands will be branded with symbolistic rings of our love and dedication towards each other. I'll be the best husband I can possible be to you. And we won't ever be able to leave the house for about a week after, because we will be like bunnies from all the love we will make. Haymitch won't understand what that is and he will just laugh at us. But, we won't care. Because we are so in love it doesn't matter."

"Maybe a year or so after, I'll ask about a family. A family for us, a baby. But, you'll get scared again and most likely deny me of that. I'll be sad, but I won't give up until I'm sure you're fully against us having a family of our own. I'll ask every few months, then you'll give in. Because you were reminded why we should live our lives to the fullest of it's capacity. And I'll cry when you agree to it, because I've always wanted a family with you. And my childhood dreams would finally come true. I've wanted to become a father just like the one mine was to me, because he was and is the best father I could have ever asked for. And I want to give my children the same love that he gave to me. And you Katniss, you'll be the most incredible mother."

"When you'll tell me that you're pregnant, my heart will stop. I will cry again and make sure you know how amazing this is going to be for us. And my mind will never stop thinking about all the ways to make you feel the most perfect at all times and anything which will make you happy. I'll care for you, just as I am going to do to nurse you back to health. I'm never going to stop making you feel the best you can at all moments. No matter how horrible everything may get for you now and then when I do get you pregnant. Because, that's who I am. And I'm going to do everything in my power to make you perfectly healthy."

"I'll say you're beautiful because you'll have those cute pregnancy curves and I'll be able to see the body which has changed to carry our child until it's brought into this world. When the baby moves, I'll be there to help you get through it if I'd freak you out. I'll give you as much crazy food as you want, I'll rub your stomach, talk to the baby, and make sure that every moment our baby makes you smile and fall in love with it more. When you're going through the worst pain of bringing our baby into the world, I'll let you break my hand, yell things into my ear, bite me if you want, anything to help you feel just a little bit better. And when you bring our baby into the world, I'll be a mess. I'll cry and so will you. Because you've never seen anything so amazing in your whole life, our creation, our baby. When I hold our child, I'll be the biggest mess. I'll be the most thankful man in the world as I hold my child and think that I'm finally father."

"Our baby will make life hard, but we won't care. Because it'll be so cute and we will just be besotted with her or him. When it'll take it's first step, word, sentence, walk, run, ruin our kitchen or my art room, they'll just make us want another one. And I'll ask for another. And I'll only give you one if that's what you wanted. Because, your word is always going to be the last one. Our children will grow into beautiful people, doing incredible things and making us proud every single day. When it comes to our time being up, we'll go together. Because, the thought of not having you in my life is… unthinkable. I cannot even fathom the idea of you not being here. Because a life without you, isn't a life at all. And for me, that's always been the case. So, when you die, I'll be dying right beside you. Because our souls are tied together. And I'm never going to leave you alone. I'm going to be with you past this world. Because, you are my life. You are everything to me, always have and always will. I love you, Katniss. And I'm going to get you better. Mark my words. If not, I'll kill everyone who prevented our life from happening. Everything I do is for you."

It takes everything in my being not to kiss him there. I'm almost crying, but I can't let myself break my silence. I don't want him to know that I just heard his confession of his love and the plan he has set out for our life. It makes me want to scream in frustration from his constant assumptions that I am actually going to live for the rest of my life, not just a few more months. Unwillingly, I feel a burning blood bile starting to rise inside my throat. I cough, blinking to make it look like I've just woken up. Then, I push myself up and try and settle my stomach as I sit up.

"Katniss?" Peeta's worried and concerned voice calls.

I screw my eyes closed, trying to concentrate on stopping the rising pain coming up through my body. I shake my head when I feel it coming faster. I cough, covering my mouth with my hand and swinging my legs over the bed, going to the bathroom. I hear Peeta's heavy feet trailing me as I lay my head inside the toilet bowl. I feel tears starting to form, some from the pain building inside me and then from Peeta's confession, at least he won't believe it was from what he said, thinking I heard it. Peeta's behind me, holding my hair back and rubbing my back. I cough and the river of red starts consuming the clear water.

The pain continues to come five minutes later. Like a stinging burning sensation within my body, which keeps tears pouring from my eyes without thinking about it. Peeta continues to give me comfort with his hand on my back, holding my hair back, and the often 'Oh Katniss', 'You're gonna be okay', 'Get it all out', and more. Soon, I'm done. But, my tears don't stop and I fall against the toilet and just sob in pain and still reeling from the hope which Peeta has more than the hope of the revolution. Peeta curls up behind me, body moulding with mine as he buries his head into my hair. We stay like that for a long time, Peeta never moving, kissing my head occasionally and causing a stirring inside my stomach. It's strange, but I know it's not going to be the start of another round of pain and vomiting. I've felt it before, but I can't pinpoint from what. Eventually, I stop crying, just hiccupping and trying to get over myself. I turn around to Peeta and he stares at me with soft eyes, pushing hair from my face and out of my tear streaks.

"Please don't leave me, Peeta." I beg, just needing that reassurance.  
I don't want to be alone in this. I want to be around him.

Peeta smiles, pushing his lips to my fore head and leaving a burning kiss to my damp, hot skin.

"I'll stay with you, always, remember?"

I push myself into his arms and let myself relax into his embrace. And I think I fall asleep almost instantly in Peeta's arms, on the bathroom floor.

* * *

 **See what I did there? I've had that planned since the beginning. I thought that it would break people's hearts. Anyways, sorry it's been a while since an update. I went to Cambodia to do charity work and I've just gotten writing again, so hopefully I can try and update more. I have another story going, trying to prioritize.**

 **I really appreciate all the lovely and positive feedback I've gotten from this story. It makes me feel so good!**

 **Love you guys, everlark4ever75 xx**


	5. Chapter 4- Heat

**Chapter 4- Heat**

I wake up, instantly confused with my surroundings. I'm warm, but not an uncomfortable warmth surrounding me. I'm soon aware of the large body spooned around my frail body, I then realise it's Peeta. I smile and happily think that I got a full nights sleep. No nightmares. And no waking up at anytime from severe pain. I can feel my head pounding, but it's nothing that I cannot handle. My throat is dry and sore. I need a drink. I turn my head to see Peeta is still sound asleep, hair dishevelled, and face looking so young and free from worry. I carefully pull myself away from him and push myself up from the bed. I see one of my dressing gowns on a chair beside the bed, it confuses me about why it's here, but I don't question it this second. I stand, wrapping myself in the soft and warm gown, softly and slowly padding out of the bedroom and to the kitchen.

From the window in the dining room, I can see the darkness outside holds. But, I see the soft orange in the very distance, so it's probably around five-thirty or six o'clock. It's colder down here, but it doesn't bother me. I make my way into the kitchen and grab a glass from the cupboard. I fill it with water and down it, my thirst not satisfied and my throat now burning from the cold liquid. I remember what Peeta made me a few days ago, which he continued to make me since. The lemon, honey and ginger tea, I crave that just at the thought.

Peeta first made me lemon and honey, but he remembered something about how ginger helps with sicknesses. So, he added it to the lemon and honey, it's been all I can stand to drink for days. I figure it shouldn't be hard to make. I see a lemon inside the fruit bowl on the bench, I reach over and bring the yellow skin to my nose and I smell the soothing citrus. I clears my mind from worry and fills it with the pungent scent. I frown thinking about where the ginger may be. So, I search in the pantry, nothing. The fridge, nothing. I huff, irritated. I search my mind thinking about the way Peeta moves around the kitchen when he makes it. In my mind, I see him backing up from the bench and opening up the freezer. The freezer! I back up and opening up the door, letting frosty air into the cold kitchen. I see the knob of ginger and I pull it out, it's frozen solid. I go back to the bench and turn to see the kettle against the stovetop. I grab it, quietly fill it with water and then crank the heat on the stove, placing the full kettle over the flame.

I turn my attention back onto how to make the tea. It's three ingredients and water, how hard can it really be? With a small amount of confidence, I grab a knife from the block and slice open the lemon, setting the two halves aside. Then I look at the knob of ginger, it's got a skin and I know you don't eat it. I cut a small knob from the knuckled ginger, then cutting off the skin. When I'm done, the small knob is oddly shaped and staring into my soul saying, "What did you do to me?". I frown, cutting some slices of the ginger and setting it aside with the lemon. I go into the pantry, pulling out the jar of honey and moving slowly back into the kitchen. I pull a mug out and grab a spoon from the drawer, dipping it into the honey. I curl the amber syrup around the spoon and then transfer it to the mug, getting a long, sticky streak of orange over the bench. I softly growl at my idiocy and then grab a cloth from the ovens handle, trying to wipe it up. It sticks even more and gets fluff and material fibres from the towel stuck inside the streak and that irritates me even more, making me get frustrated. I throw the cloth away and move further down on the bench, squeezing lemon on top of the honey, creating two layers, solid and liquid, orange and muggy white. I grab a slice of ginger and throw it into the cup, turning around and reaching out to grab the whistling kettle. I grab the handle and I jump back in pain, my bare hand coming into contact with the burning metal.

I softly cry out in pain, clutching my hand and cursing myself for my idiocy from my brain not thinking clearly. As I kneel down onto the ground, with my hand held against my chest as I feel the pain spread. I've been burnt before, fireballs in the first arena. So, why does this hurt so much now? The pain begins a trail of tears and I instantly hate myself from my constant crying. It makes me cry harder thinking about how weak I am at the moment. I curl into a ball on the kitchen floor and forget about my sore throat, letting tears consume me.

* * *

I don't know how long I stay sitting down on the ground, in a ball and crying, but soon there is light streaming into the room and warming the ground. I'm brought back to my senses by the pounding of feet down the stairs. I sit up, but don't get up. He'll see me. He does, his face red, hair even more out of place than before, and the most wild look inside his eyes.

"Katniss." He breathes, getting to me and crawling on the floor, gathering me into his arms.

"I thought I lost you." He whispers into my hair, slowly rocking me, for his comfort, but also mine.

I wrap my arms around him, forgetting my hand and wincing as I curl my fingers into his shirt. I pull my hand back along with my body, holding it between the two of us.

"What's wrong?" Peeta asks, looking down to my hands.

I shake my head, unable to speak, then he notices my tear streaked cheeks. His hand comes up to my right cheek and softly rubbing away at my streak lines.

"Katniss? Why have you been crying?"  
I slap my not burnt hand onto my thigh and look up at him and exclaiming,

"Because I'm weak and vulnerable that anything I do makes me cry like a little baby!"

Peeta pulls me back into his arms, rubbing my back and making my head push into the crook of his neck. Just the scent surrounding me calms me down almost in an instant, but it doesn't stop me from beginning to cry again.

"See! Anything I do, I just start crying. It shows how bloody weak I am!"

Peeta says my name softly, continuing to rub my back and comfort me in way only he can, but this moment, I am completely weak and vulnerable to anyone who could walk through those doors.

"You are not weak, Katniss. Yes, now you may feel like it, but everyone we know is feeling the same. We have been through some of the worst experiences of your life, you even more than others with his horrible sickness to top it. I've told you many times that you are stronger than anyone else I know, you are for miles. You are feeling vulnerable at the moment, and you're allowed to be. It's only Haymitch and I who are here to witness this and we are completely understand, even if it doesn't feel like it much on Haymitch's side. Don't worry about it. Cry, you've been kept in a place where you had to be strong for everyone else. Now, you can be vulnerable. Cry and I'll be here to hold you, understanding everything you're crying for. Because I can see your pain, know your experiences and let you take everything out on me, I'm here for that. So, don't think that you cannot do any of those things around me, do it all the time, I don't care. I'm here for you."

I hate that Peeta is so perfect! It's frustrating. I don't think to say anything else, I just push myself closer to him and let myself cry again. I hate this. But, I'm glad I have Peeta to comfort me. No judgement from him.

"I burnt my hand on the kettle because I didn't grab a cloth." I tell Peeta as he examines my hand as I sit on the kitchen bench.

I've calmed down and now Peeta is fully concentrated on fixing my hand. He nods his head, walking towards the downstairs bathroom, leaving me sitting on the bench. I look around until I settle on the kettle. I scowl at it, huffing at the little stinging pain inside my red almost blistered palm. Soon, Peeta's returned with a bandage and burn cream given by the same doctor as me for our burns.

"Hold your hand upwards." He asks, unfastening the lid to the cream.

I do as he asks, himself grabbing my hand and bringing it up closer towards his face. He swipes his hand through some of the cream, spreading it over the swollen area. I cringe a little when he starts to rub it over my wound, he apologises instantly, but it's not his fault.

"What were you even doing in here? If you wanted something you should have just woken me up. I would have come and done it for you no matter the hour."

I stare at Peeta's face. He's got to stop doing this kind of thing. I know he said to me last night when I was 'asleep' that he'd do anything because he loves me. But, he shouldn't be. I can still try and do things for my own. What hurts most is more that he just wants to help me, not thinking about his own wellbeing. He needs sleep, he needs to stop worrying, he doesn't need to tend to each thing which I need help with. I shouldn't be this reliant on someone else.

"I couldn't, Peeta. You need sleep." I say pathetically, looking back down to my hand as he tries to tend to it.

When his hands stop moving, dropping down I know that his eyes are looking at me the same way mine were before but to him. I don't dare to look up into his eyes.

"Katniss…"

"I will next time, if it makes you happier." Again, weakly said on my part. I feel any energy I had this morning slowly fading away, my need to sleep great again.

I look up at Peeta with my droopy eyes, seeing him looking down at me with his worried and pained eyes. He blinks, nodding.

"It would. I don't want you doing anything that I could be doing instead, to save your energy. I can see you're drained again."

Caught out again, he just knows. I suppose being in an arena with someone twice and in a battlefield makes someone aware of little things like being exhausted and drained. Dammit Peeta…

He looks back down, continuing to tend to my hand and we stay quiet for a few minutes.

I push myself to say the words out loud. I'm having a battle at trying to figure out the right and proper words to say. I can't let him know that I know about his confession last night. But, he has to know.

"Peeta?"

He looks up at me.

"Thank you." I whisper.

He gives a small smile.

"You're welcome. Your hand should be fine in a few days, just sore for the next."

I shake my head softly interrupting his words, also stopping my head at the early stages of an incredibly sore headache from the movement.

"Thank you for staying."

Our breathing becomes the loudest thing in the house. His movements still as he stops wrapping up my hand, staring at it like he's trying to find words.

"I don't deserve your kindness and to be here after how horrible I was—"

"Katniss." He interrupts.

I stop. I am on the verge of just babbling nonsense anyway. Peeta moves, quickly finishing the bandage and then wiping his hands on a tea towel next to me. Then he reaches up, pulling me into his arms until I am just sitting on the edge of the bench.

His arms soothe me, make me feel no pain, make me remember that there is something I should be trying to fight this sickness for. I wrap my arms around his neck, letting my head drop down onto his blonde locks. We stay like that for a few minutes as I try and allow myself to calm into the arms which I need to fight for. Just like the Hunger Games all over again, this is another fight which I need to battle until the outcome is the best for the people surrounding me. A life where I live and can tell the tales about my sacrifices, battles I've faced and the people I lost in order to get to the position which we will be in a few months from now. No one will ever really heal from the horrors which occurred thanks to President Snow. But, I will heal from this sickness, I need too, for Peeta, Haymitch, maybe my mother, they need me to live the life which I fought for.

I pull away from Peeta, looking for a moment down at his pained and worried eyes which stare back into mine. I give him probably the weakest smile I could ever muster, then I push myself from the bench and walking towards the lounge room. I lay down on the couch, curling into a ball and closing my eyes. I don't want to shed anymore tears today, so I just sit in pain with tears which I cannot allow to spill. I hear his heavy footsteps, they stop right in front of me. I feel his hand tangle into my hair, smoothing it before his thumb glides over my fore head, drawing his hand back, and his steps descend from the couch. I hear them move down the hall, before they start ascending again. I wonder what he is doing when he comes back towards me with those heavy feet. Then I'm draped with a think heavy blanket which warms the cold body which I didn't realise I had. Between getting warm and falling into a small slumber, I thank Peeta softly. I can almost hear the smile on his lips when he says back,

"You're welcome."

* * *

Hot. Burning heat. Fire. Am I on fire? Coming from a fire consuming nightmare, I awaken into a state where I still feel hot, the burning, and the heat consuming my body. I try and open my eyes, but my head is pounding. The thought of trying to open them in this pain is unthinkable. I don't want too, I know whatever light which will stream into this room is going to make me wish I never did. Burning. I'm still burning. It's not stopping. Why won't it stop? I feel something heavy resting on me, restraining my body from movement. I start to panic, I can't move and the burning is continuing. I think I let out a cry, I don't know. I'm panicking. I can't get my head to make any other conclusions other than I'm on fire again. I know this feeling. But, it doesn't feel the same. Something's different. Something's not right.

I hear my name, but it's distant. It feels like I'm still in a dream land and I cannot escape. I don't want to be stuck. I cry out again. My name is yelled this time, but I'm still stuck inside a burning world. I feel hands on my body, the heaviness is lifted from my body, I feel the air. My name is called again, I'm pressed against someone's chest. I'm still too distant to realise who it is, where I am and if I'm actually on fire or not. Feeling begins coming back to my body, my ability to move my lips and choke out the word stuck on my mind, "Hot."

I feel myself coming back a little, feeling someone holding me and air against me, I'm not as panicked. But the temperature of my body is still sky rocketing and high above what it should be. I gather all in my body and lift my eyes open, not being scared of the other burning I'll get from opening my eyes. I'm blinded, but I catch a glimpse of blonde and know who's got me, who yelled my name, who's here with me.

"Peeta." I breathe without a second thought.

My ears seem to finally register to the rest of my mind, being able to comprehend the words which come out of Peeta's mouth.

"Katniss. I'm here. Tell me what you need. What do you want me to do? Katniss? I need you to tell me. You're scaring me."

 _You're scaring me_.

"I need to cool down." I say softly, wanting nothing more than cold water to route itself across my skin.

Peeta mumbles to himself, or to me, but I cannot concentrate on his words, only his voice which is so far away. I feel Peeta lift me, hear his heavy feet scurrying across the wooden floorboards, the slamming of a door against a wall. I feel the sweat covering my body and it's clinging to every inch of my skin. I'm surprised Peeta can still hold me considering how slippery my skin feels.

"It's okay, Katniss. It's okay." I can now hear Peeta's voice, and it's so clear and making me calm down. But his voice can't calm my slippery and overheated skin. My head starts to spin, I cannot seem to calm down or be able to reel my head back for the spinning it's doing. Peeta leans down, gently placing me onto the cold tiles of the downstairs bathroom. It almost burns my skin from the different temperature of them, a stinging cold burn against my olive skin. I open my eyes to see Peeta rummaging through the cupboard under the sink, pulling out a large towel before closing it loudly. I hear the water running, but I cannot see it because I'm too low on the ground. The water switches off and I see Peeta's muscles flexing as he wrings out the large towel from the excess water. He kneels down on the ground in front of me, wrapping the towel around my neck and wiping off the sweat from my face with the ends.

"There you go, Katniss."

He's gentles against my skin, but efficient as he removes the bulk of the sweat from my face. I feel my body cooling slightly from the cool water against my skin, but my head is still spinning uncontrollably. It feels like my whole body is spinning and I'm dizzy. I bring my hands up to Peeta's fore arms, holding onto them both and stilling him from clearing my skin from the heat residing across my whole body. I swallow hard and try to breathe, the ability starting to become difficult. My closed eyes open and they come into contact with Peeta's worried ones.

"Katniss?"

My eyes close and I throw my head back, it being even harder to keep it up. His voice becomes even more scared as he calls out my name again. His hands come around, cupping my head and lifting it up. Opening my eyes again, my vision is blurry and spinning and I snap my eyes shut straight away. I feel my insides churning, I turn to the side, pushing Peeta out of my way, coughing and my insides becoming a part of the bathroom floor. I cough it away, leaning back up and resting my head back where it was before inside Peeta's hands. Then my vision and body blanks.

* * *

"Katniss?"

"Please Katniss?"

"Don't die on me."

"Come on, baby."

"Katniss?"

"Please."

I groan.

"Peeta?"

"Katniss!"

Opening my eyes, I see Peeta leaning over me, his eyes directly staring into mine. Those blue worried eyes searching mine as he takes a large breath of relief. He leans forward, pressing a big kiss to my fore head, his fingers tangled into my hair. I bring my arm up to Peeta's shoulder, holding him close to me, not wanting him to leave my sight. That's when I notice the water trickling down my arm. I also realise the water sloshing around my body. My eyes look down and see my body emerged in water, only in a singlet and underwear. The water feels warm, but my body feels cool. And it's actually feeling normal compared to the fire burning sensation that was there before. Looking back up to Peeta, I feel myself calm and still clinging onto him.

"I thought I lost you. I was so scared." Peeta whispers, like he doesn't want to disturb the silent air surrounding us.

"I'm sorry."

"Katniss, it wasn't your fault."

"I couldn't do anything. It was like I was stuck." I murmur.

"Your body was paralysed."

I turn my head to the side to find the person who was speaking. Anitae is doing some tests on the sink's bench, paying attention to whatever she is doing.

"How?"

"It's another one of the symptoms. Your body can't react to anything like it should, your body overheated leaving your body temperature soaring higher than it should ever be, leaving you paralysed. Peeta was right to put you into a cold bath to try and get your temperature down. You could have very well died if it wasn't for him acting so fast. And also him getting Haymitch to get me here."

She moves from the sink to the other side of Peeta where my arm is resting over the side, two needles inside my arm.

"What are they?"

"One is giving you some fluids. The other reading your body temperature. I've been watching it stay at a steady temperature for the last twenty minutes."

I nod my head. I don't even feel the needles. Thank goodness, I hate needles.

I take a deep breath, leaning my head back and letting my arm drop from Peeta's shoulder.

"Katniss?" Peeta calls worriedly.

"What?"

I open my eyes and look at him, his somewhat calmness from before has vanished and he looks shocked and worried again.

"Don't go passing out on me again."

"I won't. I'm just tired." I say, finally giving into the drooping of my eyes.

"Peeta, I think it would be best for Katniss to go and get some sleep." Anitae calls from the sink bench, looking over for just a moment.

Peeta jumps up, reaching across and bringing back a towel. Anitae comes over and pulls the needles from my arms with so much ease I don't even notice it. I brace myself on the edges of the bath, hoisting myself up slowly and allowing all of the water to trickle down my body and back into the sloshing world beneath me. Peeta holds the towel out and I grab onto it, securing it around my body. Before I can even think about how to step out, Peeta's got me in his arms and walking out of the bathroom and on a route towards the bedroom.

Inside Peeta's arms, I can feel his tense body beneath every muscle on my body. Looking up into his face, he's more focussed on the pathway to the bedroom rather than carrying a sack of blood and bones which is named Katniss Everdeen. He's so worried and scaring himself silly as he watches me slowly deteriorate. I hate him for staying, but I'm selfish at how much I never want him to go. Scaling the stairs, I push my head into the crook of his neck, grabbing hold of him tighter. He buries his head into my hair, again another kiss before we are upstairs. When Peeta walks me into the bedroom, I pull my head up and look at Peeta's face. The natural beauty he has got in extraordinary. Defined jawline, striking blue eyes, long blonde eyelashes, face sculptured by a God, I'm glad I am able to be the only person to see it at all times. My fingers grab the bottoms of Peeta's curls and letting the soft hair being only one thing which tops my whole body over Peeta's. I lean up, pressing a kiss against his cheek. He stops, face blank and body even more tense. He turns, placing me onto his bed and walking away to the chest of drawers. I see him run a hand over his face and then he starts searching through his drawers.

"I'm sorry I scared you." I interrupt the silence with my croaky voice, which I then clear.

He stops, holding onto a white t-shirt inside his tight fist. He turns and his face is still blank.

"It's not your fault, Katniss. It's not like you wanted that to happen."

I look from Peeta to the ground, my eyes staring in the direction of the wooden floorboards, but my mind isn't comprehending it. My body shivers, goose-bumps covering my skin, my insides run cold. His heavy steps again ascend, stopping beside me, Peeta's hands coming to my bare shoulders and rubbing some heat into them. I look up at him, concentrating on him and I see the clothes still inside his fist.

"You'll have to wear my clothes. Yours are still at your house. Might pop around when you are sleeping to get some more of your own clothes. I doubt you're going to want to wear mine forever." Peeta jokes as he says this, making a valid point, but I take it seriously.

"I wouldn't mind."

He looks a little shocked, but doesn't stop the small smile which is across his face. He passes me the clothes and walks away.

"I'll let you get changed. If they don't fancy you, help yourself to whatever." He tells me from the door.

I nod, thanking him softly and getting a wider smile from him as he closes the door and his steps disappear from my earshot.

Changing into Peeta's clothes, I am instantly in a heaven from the comforting smell which always surrounds Peeta and calms me. Now, I have it all to myself and the smell around me at all times. The comforting smell of dill and cinnamon, an odd combination, but one I have grown to love. And just the simple smell which I can only describe as Peeta, it's a heavenly fragrance which I never want to leave my life. Smelling this, feeling his soft clothes against my skin, sensing his presence around me, and his loving eyes, are nothing I ever want to live without. With my towel in hand, I exit the bathroom, walking down the stairs and into the laundry which is in the same place mine is. Placing it into the hamper, I turn on my heels and head back towards the bathroom, where I can hear both Peeta's and Anitae's voices.

"You are definitely doing the best thing for Katniss by staying with her. From what Haymitch was telling my work partner and I, she wasn't doing any good before you came back." Anitae comments.

Before I can walk into the bathroom, I stop right beside the door. I shouldn't eavesdrop, but I cannot help myself.

"She wasn't. She's been getting over the death of her sister, among others who died in the war. She took it really hard because she was the Mockingjay after all."

"I wasn't too caught up in the war. I help the hurt or dying civilians. I didn't want to know about all of those horrors which were going on."

 _Prim wanted to help the wounded…_

"You did a great thing to Panem by helping out. Katniss' sister did the same thing, before she died." The hurt inside Peeta's voice is definitely known. It almost breaks my heart hearing that hurt. He loved her too.

"I can tell her death affected you as well as Katniss. Maybe just not in the same way as her, but definitely were affected. You must have cared about her."

Peeta sighs heavily, I can almost picture him leaning up against the wall of the bathroom.

"I did, very much. She always had hope that one day… One day Katniss may fall for me, just as I did for her."

Silence fills the bathroom and my mind. The way he says this, it's obvious the hope which Prim had given him. Maybe her passing had given him that extra hope to continue on trying to convince me, to help him try and live with her death. I didn't think about how much Peeta must have loved her too. She always made me walk by the bakery when we were younger. She must have done it for Peeta, hoping that one day he would build up that courage, then her name was drawn and so was Peeta's.

"You're a sweet man, Peeta. And I strongly encourage you to do what you have been. Just make sure that you are here for her—"

"Of course I will."

"I know. Just, the only other case documented got severe. And I cannot express to you how much worse this may get. You need to be there for her. She's going to need to feel that love you obviously have for her."

There's another small silence, I don't know how Peeta must be reacting to hearing that, but my heart is surely beating faster than it has all day. That made me fear a little. And I didn't want to feel any fear. I can't feel fear, it'll make me weak. What the hell has my body got me up for?

"I don't want to hear it. Just know that I will never leave her alone. She knows that. We went through that before."

 _He spoke to me while I was 'asleep'. But, we did speak this last night and this morning…_

I step back from the wall, stamping my feet to make my presence sound new, turning into the bathroom, seeing Peeta sitting on the side of the bath, Anitae leaning against the sink. Eyes turn to me and I avoid Peeta's gaze and glance at Anitae.

"Thank you."

She just nods with a small smile on her face.

"I'll make sure that one of us are always prepared for a call." She promises, referring to herself and the other nurse here with her.

Now I nod my head, turning to Peeta slightly, seeing his gaze unbrokenly stuck to my face. I cross my arms across my chest, turning and walking to try and disappear from her words,

 _I cannot express to you how much worse this may get._

 _You need to be here for her._

 _She's going to need to feel that love that you obviously have for her._

"Wait Katniss!"

Stopping at the end of the staircase, I let my eyes flicker back to where Peeta is fast approaching me, placing a hand on my back and walking beside me as we walk up the stairs. I let my hand guide it's way around Peeta's back, holding his body to my own, my heart hammering inside my chest. Peeta's hand curls around to my waist and holds my body tighter against his own, my heart fighting against my rib cage to get out. Walking into his bedroom, Peeta lets go of me, heading towards the open curtains. I sit down onto the bed, seeing Peeta draw the curtain and shutting out the light.

"Those clothes look better on you than they do on me."

I can't help but blush. I curl up against Peeta's pillows and burying myself under his covers, hiding my cheeks from his view. He comes into my view, his hair still shining in the soft light. I hear the scraping of a chair and see a notebook inside his palm.

"What are you doing?" I question.

"Nothing. Just sleep."

He brings the chair closer, flicking his shoes off and resting them on the end of the bed. He opens the notebook, going through a few pages before resting it against his lap, a pencil inside his hand which I didn't even notice.

"You're not going to draw me are you?" I ask.

His head cocks up, his eyes piercing through the soft light and locking with mine.

"Is that an issue?"

I can see the smirk on his lips. But, it doesn't make me feel any better. He should have something much better as a study for his works, from how extraordinary they can be, I shouldn't be what he draws.

"I'm not pretty enough for one of your drawings."

He scoffs, instantly replying,

"You aren't just pretty. You're beautiful. Now, go to sleep. I don't want to hear anything like that come out of your mouth again."

I smirk now.

"Thank you again."

"Stop thanking me, I'm always gonna be here to help. I was before, I am now, I will be later too."

 _He means from when he threw the bread. Oh Peeta…_

Turning, I move around until I'm comfortable, murmuring into the pillow,

"Goodnight, Peeta."

"Goodnight, Katniss."

I don't know how long I lie there, but I hear his pencil scratching against the paper and my head hurting from my inability to sleep. Inside my dreams, I find myself coming face to face with beautiful drawings of what seems to be me, but Peeta's face never coming into view.

* * *

 **I hope this chapter deemed okay. I feel that it's finally being built into something. Next chapter I'm hoping to have some kind of comedy instead of just the ansty and painful things. But, I do love writing those scenes, they are my favourites and I love being able to share them with the world. Please review, they help me out especially if people have ideas. I love trying to encorporate those ideas into the plot. If you have even a thought, share it. If you just want to tell me to hurry and update, do it. Ahah Love you guys, everlark4ever75 xx**


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